


Finding You

by Alien_Duck, Ladroitte



Series: Finding You [1]
Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Arlo pov, Bit of Fluff, Builder pov, Cave in, Characters make bad decisions, Did we mention the smut?, Emotional rollercoasters, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fingering, Hard hitting angst for a bit, Hurt/Comfort, Innuendo, Light BDSM, Little bit of memory loss, Masturbation, Mention of Being Buried Alive, Mentions of Blood, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, No really they're both idiots, Oblivious morons trying to flirt, Oral, Penetration, Slow Burn, Smut, Tight Spaces, UST, all sorts of smut, alternating pov, bit of angst, concussion, friends to idiots to lovers, gagging, rope play, switching POV, whole lot of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-01-21 06:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 144,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21294746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alien_Duck/pseuds/Alien_Duck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladroitte/pseuds/Ladroitte
Summary: Arlo and Hannah both feel a connection as soon as they meet, but that doesn’t always mean that their journey will be easy or smooth. Follow the story of a Captain and a Builder through the little moments of their lives, as they try to find each other again and again.
Relationships: Arlo/Builder (My Time At Portia), Arlo/Female Builder (My Time At Portia)
Series: Finding You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537756
Comments: 246
Kudos: 221





	1. Meet and Greet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started as a single crack scene related to another fic, that quickly developed into smut, that then developed plot, that then grew and expanded until we had over 100k words... Basically, we wrote this fic backwards over the span of ~3 months during the Summer of '19. We also made plenty of sequel scenes, extras, and are halfway done on a prequel. So... expect a load of content even after the main fic is done.
> 
> The main fic is fully completed, it's going to be updated every three days until it's all out (with possible break over Christmas), and we are super happy to finally get to share this with you! So thanks for reading, and we hope you'll stay with us for this trip!
> 
> Oh, and each scene had a main writer, which means that if you know our writing styles well, you may be able to figure out who wrote which scene. Feel free to leave your guesses in the comments ^_^ (Here's a clue: We've written approximately the same amount of words, but we may have written several scenes in a row here and there.)
> 
> Major thanks to HarvestGirl10 for beta reading for us <3
> 
> /Ladroitte and Alien_Duck

March 1st 100AP, Friday 

Hannah looked down at the list in her hand as she walked away from the store, stopping in front of the large set of stairs leading out of Central plaza and pulling her chunky wooden pen from behind her ear to tick off Carol and Mars, and write down their children’s names. 

It had been kind of the Mayor to set this up for her, and an excellent way for her to introduce herself to people. Since she knew full well that if she’d been left to her own devices, she would have probably completely forgotten to talk to anyone other than Antoine and Presley, and then spent the next few months too embarrassed to ask anyone anything.

So she’d met Sophie and Emily out at their farm, and been made to promise to join them for dinner at the weekend, and then she’d introduced herself to everyone around Peach Plaza. Then all the shop owners along the main street. And an... an _ interesting _young man in a bear skin who had been looking through some boxes had given her a shiny rock along with an invitation to come meet his pa sometime. 

Who was a bear. 

...Because why not?

So from the list Mayor Gale had given her, that just left Dr Xu and Phyllis at the clinic, and Minister Lee and Nora, since he had been sure she’d run into everyone else naturally over the next few days.

She flipped the list over to look at the mini map Gale had drawn, and sighed. It wasn’t exactly great, as maps went, not compared to the ones Zack used to make for her through all of their childhood anyway. Nothing was quite to scale. She’d been able to follow along the main street, but only because people had called out to her as she passed them. She was really going to have to draw her own at some point, not that she intended to need one for long, but first things first. She looked up and around the plaza, comparing the buildings around her to the tiny writing on the page. 

She ticked off everything, and then groaned as she realised that the little squiggles were meant to be roads, and one of the squiggles leading off the plaza matched up to the stairs. And the clinic was at the other end of the squiggle. Which meant... 

She sighed as she turned round again to face the long, intimidating set of stairs. Which meant the clinic was going to be up there. Somewhere.

Maybe she should go and find that man--maybe she should go and find **Oaks** again, she mused, looking back towards the main street. He’d said that Portia could be a little twisty until you got used to it, and some of the roads didn’t make sense. So instead of spending the rest of the day ending up in people’s back gardens, it might be better to--

She ducked her head back to the sheet of paper in her hand, lifting her pen to start doodling in the margin as she moved to lean against the edge of the stairs. Someone was walking down towards her, and while she _ was _ lost, she didn’t actually want to advertise that fact to everyone. What kind of first impression would that be? Especially when all she wanted was to try and make a name for herself here. A good name, based on her work. Not her ability or lack thereof to get around town.

“Hi! Are you ok here, do you need any help at all?”

She closed her eyes, counted to three silently, then opened them again to look up at the woman who stood before her.

Orange top and hat, blue trousers, _ long _hair, and a sweet and open face that was smiling at her kindly. A true, honest smile, the type that crinkled up the skin around her brown eyes. The young woman, who looked to be a similar age to herself, had her hands clasped together in front of her, head tilted to the side slightly as she waited, and Hannah found herself smiling back timidly. Maybe admitting she was lost to this person wouldn’t be so bad?

“Erm, hello Miss,” she said, switching her pen to her left hand with the paper so she could hold out her right in front of her, pushing her jackets sleeve back up to her elbow when it slid down to cover her hand. “My name’s Hannah, I’m new in town, and I guess I do need a little help. I’m trying to find the clinic?”

The other woman seemed surprised, then her expression switched into concern.

“Oh no, are you ok? Are you not feeling well? The clinic’s actually at the top of these stairs, but I can run up them and go get the Doctor for you so you don’t have to climb them if you can’t make it?”

“Ah,” Hannah said, taken aback. “Oh, no, I’m fine Miss, honestly. Mr Mayor just gave me a list of people to meet is all, and the people there are some of the last on my list? I’m not sick or anything, truly. But thank you for your concern.”

She watched, almost amused as the other woman seemed to deflate from relief before her, all the tension draining away. Until she looked down and saw Hannah’s hand still hovering between them, and perked back up.

“Oh I am so sorry!” she said, reaching out to wrap both her hands around Hannah’s one. “My name’s Nora! I’m a missionary for the Church of Light. It’s at the top of the hill, past the first ruin. I’m sure you’ll find it as you look around town.” She paused, tilting her head to the side again. “Would you like me to take you up to the clinic? Portia can be a little confusing when you’re new here, and it’s so easy to get lost.” 

Hannah blinked a few times before a small laugh slipped out her lips as she nodded, pulling her hand back and grabbing her pen again to tick off Nora. Then she waved towards the stairs in an ‘after you’ gesture.

“That would be great Miss Nora, thank you so much! Oh,” she paused, hand faltering. “But you just came down, weren’t you on your way somewhere?”

Nora smiled brightly at her before she turned to start back up the stairs.

“Nowhere important, I promise you. I was just out for a walk, getting some fresh air. Besides,” she said over her shoulder, eyes sparkling. “Going up and down the stairs does amazing things for my legs.”

Hannah burst out laughing, almost tripping over the step as she started to follow Nora up them. She met her gaze, and yes, yes Nora knew _ exactly _what she’d said. And judging by the proud smirk that was tugging at her lips, She’d planned to get this exact reaction from her.

Well! It seemed there was more to Nora than she’d first thought.

“So where are you staying, Hannah? I haven’t seen you at the Happy Apartments. That’s where I live,” she added, in answer to Hannah’s confused look. 

“Ah, I live in my workshop. It’s just outside the gate by Peach Plaza? My Pa signed it over to me recently, and I moved in a few days ago, but I’ve spent all my time so far trying to patch up the walls and floor. It was in pretty bad shape, since he hadn’t been here in ages--”

She trailed off as she looked up at Nora, and saw someone else at the top of the stairs, looking down at them curiously. Another young woman, standing tall and proud with her hands on her hips and looking down at them as if she were an old time commander on the battlefields, directing her forces. The effect was somehow strengthened by the pink hat and jacket, yellow top and green trousers she wore, and the large bag hanging behind her. Hannah moved to walk behind Nora, thinking this new person wanted to come down the stairs, but the other woman didn’t move. She just kept looking at her with a carefully blank face and sharp calculating eyes, and she got the distinct feeling she was being sized up.

“Morning Nora,” the woman said as they neared the top of the stairs, and Hannah was faintly dismayed to see another set next to it. They weren’t at the top yet? 

“Who might this be?” the woman asked when they got close enough to see her clear blue eyes.

“Good morning Sam,” her guide said cheerfully as they stopped on level ground. “This is Hannah, she’s just moved in to the old workshop outside Peach Plaza. Hannah, this is Sam, one of the members of Portia’s Civil Corps. Their building is next to the clinic at the top of town.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Officer Sam,” Hannah said, holding out her hand. Sam stared at it for a moment, face still blank, before she relaxed. A huge grin changed her entire appearance, making her look younger and cheekier, and Hannah realised with a start that Sam was probably around her age, too.

“I’m sure it’ll be mine, Hannah. Welcome to town. Is Nora giving you a tour?”

“Um, sort of,” she admitted, ducking her head down. “Mr Mayor gave me a list of people to meet, but I couldn’t read the map he gave me. So Miss Nora has been kind enough to take me to the clinic.”

“Aaaah,” Sam said, nodding in understanding while Nora coughed into her hand, not quite hiding her smile. “Yes, Gale’s maps are, hmm, _ famous _in town. I was heading back up to the Corps Nora, if you want me to take over?”

“Oh that’s ok, I’ll come with you both. I could use the exercise,” Nora said breezily, walking past Sam and starting up the next set of steps. Hannah tried not to look at her legs as she bit her lip and followed her, Sam falling in step next to her and huffing a laugh.

“So Gale’s got you out meeting everyone then? Who have you met so far?”

She flipped the list over and read out the names of the people she’d ticked off, and tapped the page next to the children.

“I haven’t met any of the children yet, and I’m not sure who the teacher is? I’ll be meeting whoever is at the research centre tomorrow, and the last people on here are Dr Xu, Phyllis, and Minister Lee?”

“Aaah,” Sam said, nodding as she looked at the paper, hooking her arm through Hannah’s and turning her to start walking up a long slope. Did this town go all the way into the sky or something? Nora fell in on her other side, also trying to see the list, so Hannah held it up for them both.

“Ok, so you’ve still got Mei, she works at Portia Times,” Nora piped up, and Hannah dutifully wrote the details at the bottom of the list. “Isaac, he’s normally in the park or the Commerce Guild. All of the brothers--” 

“Aadit at the tree farm,” Sam cut in. “Huss and Tuss, though they aren't in town much and like to cause trouble. And… huh," she said flatly, leaning in closer over her shoulder. "Gale didn’t tell you to come meet us at the Corps?”

She shook her head, writing down the people they’d said. She’d have to ask someone about the ‘brothers’ later.

“No, Mr Mayor said I’d meet everyone else as time went on and started doing commissions. He did mention the Corps though, and said you’d probably come introduce yourselves at some point?”

Sam grumbled as Nora laughed, and she looked forward and could _ finally _see the top of the road. Her feet were starting to hurt.

“Ok, so we’ve got to introduce you to Remy and Arlo then,” Sam started with a nod. “You can’t really miss either of them. Remy has bright green hair and carries his gas mask everywhere. And Arlo is the Captain. Of the Civil Corps I mean. He’s tall, and a redhead, and has this little beard he’s stupidly proud of. You can’t miss him.”

“And he has this blue bandana he’s always wearing, from the Flying Pigs? I swear, he never takes it off, and he gets so weird about people trying to touch it, even by accident,” Nora added, rolling her eyes as Sam tried to stifle her laugh. “He’s so damn uptight about it, and I know the Flying Pigs are important to him but really! I’m not sure he washes it either now I think about it, but maybe it’d help him get a date if he _ did _once in a blue moon!” 

She was writing their names down when her brain stalled, still half listening to Nora grumble a list of grievances that was clearly often, and lovingly, repeated about this captain person.

Arlo was a redhead? Tall, with a beard? And he was the Captain, so there was a high chance he wore a uniform of some sort. Though that wasn’t guaranteed, since Sam didn’t seem to be wearing one. But still.

“Actually, there he is right now, talking to Higgins,” Sam continued with an arm wave as they crested the top of the path, and Hannah looked up to see two large buildings. She quickly glanced up at them, noting the large cross on one and the flying pig statue in front of the other, before her eyes fell on the two men standing at the top of a curved path that led out of the mini plaza between the Corps and the Clinic.

One was the whiny man who had stolen the commission Presley had saved for her. Still looking unpleasant and annoying as he pointed to something she couldn’t see, she noted with a quiet huff. And the other…

The other was just as Sam described. Tall, redheaded, and even from this distance she could tell he was a solid, imposing man. The way he stood, back straight, shoulders back, head held high, it screamed self confidence and inner strength. And he _ was _wearing a uniform, or a jacket at least. In short, he looked like everything she’d ever dreamed about.

Her eyes slid back to his face and she froze, because she found him now staring back at her, even as he continued to talk to Higgins. And she couldn’t look away, not as she saw him scan her in turn, and then he gave her a subtle, “if-she’d-blinked-she’d-have-missed-it” nod, before turning and walking away with Higgins. 

She slowly let out her breath, not that she’d realised she’d held it, and gave herself a shake.

Because wow! Captain Arlo was… was something else! She’d have to find a way to talk to him, sooner rather than later if she could manage it.

She looked back to Sam and Nora, and found them both watching her with mixed expressions. Sort of curious, sort of speculative, sort of mischievous, and very scary when directed at her like that. She coughed, looking away from them, not wanting to have to explain herself to people she’d only met less than ten minutes ago, and ended up looking back up at the buildings. Oh. Right. Well then.

“Oh,” she said, blinking a few times. “I, well, thank you for bringing me up here Miss Nora, Officer Sam. I guess I’d better go meet the doctor now.”

She didn’t actually want to say bye to either of the young women, since it had been so nice to chat with them. Almost like she was back home in Barnarock with her friends. She felt a stab of pain in her chest as she thought about them, and how she wouldn’t be seeing any of them for quite a while. She felt her lip start to wobble until she bit it. The two women shared a look, and Hannah could tell something had passed between them when they turned back to her and both smiled.

“Would you like me to go in with you, and then I can take you back down to the plaza? It really is so easy to get lost in town, and I would hate for you to miss lunch,” Nora offered with a bright smile.

“Oh, that’s an idea,” Sam added, swaying on her feet as she folded her hands behind her head. “I’ll get my lunch break soon, why don’t you take her to the Round Table, and we can buy her lunch? A welcome to town gift of sorts.”

They were both looking at her expectantly, and she made herself nod, feeling too overwhelmed to even try and talk. They seemed to understand though, since both of their smiles softened. Sam dropped her arms, and lightly punched her on the shoulder before stepping back and turning towards the Corps building.

“I’ll see you later, friends!”

* * *

March 6th, Tuesday 

Hannah gripped the commission slip tightly in her fingers, staring up at the doors to the Civil Corps and trying to build up the courage to go in there. This was just a normal commission. She’d done a few at this point, there was nothing to be nervous about. Sure, this one was for the Captain--the tall, redheaded, _ damn _fine looking Captain who seemed to effortlessly pull off the perfect uniform and beard combo she’d spent her life dreaming of finding--but still.

“You do know you have to walk up to the doors to use them?”

She shrieked and spun around, arms waving about in panic as a low voice sounded from right behind her. Her hand, the one holding the talismans she’d been asked for, was caught at the wrist, and her head shot round to see the Civil Corps Captain had stopped her fist mere inches before it slammed into his face.

She made some unidentifiable sound, even to her, and yanked her hand back. His eyebrows shot up as he let go, and she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her already. As far as first impressions went, this one ** _sucked_**.

She closed her eyes, rolled her shoulders and counted to three. When she opened them again, she found Arlo still in front of her, looking amused.

“Good morning, Mr Captain Sir! My name’s Hannah and I’m the new builder in town and I’ve completed the commission you posted!”

“Huh?” he said, raising a brow as he glanced at the talismans in her hand, then back to her face. “Oh, thank you. That was a lot quicker than I expected, just give me a moment to sort out your fee.” He reached into the satchel strapped to his hip.

“Oh, take your time Captain Sir, I’m not in any rush.” She bit her lip and ducked her head down, silently cursing herself for babbling and making his first impression of her even worse. 

“Well no, but I’m sure you’re busy. Here,” he said, dropping a handful of Gol in her outstretched palms. “Thank you for your hard work. I hope you pick my commissions again soon, Hannah.”

He smiled at her, just a quirk at the side of his lips really, but it changed his whole face, and then he walked past her into the Civil Corps building. She wheezed, lifting a hand to her chest and wanting to just take a moment or two to calm her racing heart, and so froze when she heard the door open again.

“Oh, and my name’s Arlo, if no one’s told you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave comments no matter when you find this story, even if it's weeks/months/years after it's done. We will always love to hear what you think ^__^


	2. Mr Captain Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo works up the courage to take his and Hannah’s acquaintance to a new level.

March 15th, Friday 

Arlo frowned as Remington stopped talking, looking away from his quick scan of Sophie’s farm as they rode past it to check him. Only to find his friend looking towards the base of the town wall beneath the cafe, and smiling.

“Evening Hannah,” Remy called out, and Arlo perked up, eyes darting around because he hadn’t seen her there. But when he nudged Spacer further forward to be level with Remy he saw her straightening up from a crouch by a pile of rubble. She had leant her pickaxe against the large rock that had chip marks in it, and was wiping her face with a cloth as she smiled widely at them both, her whole face lighting up with a warm glow.

He’d been looking for more opportunities to talk to her, ever since he’d messed up his first impression. Because really, who introduced themselves like that? _ “I hope you pick my commission again soon” _, and then tacking on his name as an afterthought. 

Because he wanted to make a good impression. Hannah seemed quick witted, playful, and insanely smart to have picked up everything in the workshop so quickly. Plus she was approachable in a way the other Builders weren’t. And if he was completely honest with himself, she was stunning. Brown hair, hazel eyes, cheeky grin that he could see scrunched up her nose even from the distance he’d been keeping.

And adorable, on top of everything else. He thought about the other day, when he’d watched her walk across Peach Plaza and straight into the wall next to the gate because she’d been too focused on reading a commission sheet to look where she was going. It had probably been his, now that he thought about it. 

She stepped forward, lifting her hands to offer to Spacer and Arrow, and he looked over the area behind her quickly, one of his eyebrows twitching up as he tried to work out what she’d been doing. “What are you up to here?"

“Good evening Officer Remington, Mr Captain Sir. I was just trying to find some of the stones Miss Ginger has been after, one of Pa’s books said they might be in these rocks. Unless,” she paused, hunching in on herself and biting her lip, hands dropping to hug her arms and grab her t-shirt sleeves. “Unless I’m not meant to dig at these rocks?”

Arlo blinked at her, wondering why she thought anyone would mind, and glanced at Remy when he started to chuckle and shake his head.

“No, it’s fine, you can dig them. You can quarry any rocks and chop any trees outside the city walls, just make sure you don’t start mining the actual walls themselves.”

Her shoulders dropped and her face brightened again, and damn if it didn’t change everything about her. The way her eyes lit up, the green flecks in them almost looking like they were sparkling. Her smile was warm and infectious and _ real _. Not like the fake, subdued smiles so many people had started to wear around him ever since he became Captain so young. And by Peach, she had dimples too. And that blush spreading over her cheeks was really rather...

He snapped back to reality to realise he’d missed something, because Remy was leaning off his saddle horn and smiling at her, and she was looking rather sheepish behind that blush.

“Yes Officer Reming-- I mean, Yes Remy.”

What? he thought, as he looked between them. Why had she dropped the Officer from his name? Not that it mattered, since Remy seemed to be happy with it from the way he smiled and ruffled her hair from its messy ponytail.

He was mulling it over, trying to decide how to ask her about it, when she perked up and started to grin. He blinked, confused, as she crouched to throw a few loose rocks scattered around her bag into it, then picked it up with a grunt and threw it across her shoulders. She staggered back into Remy as she grabbed her pickaxe, who reached down to steady her with a low chuckle, and she laughed lightly.

“Thanks. But I gotta go now, I just saw Miss Ginger walk by and I want to check if these were what she wanted after all. I hope you have a good evening patrol Remy, Mr Captain Sir.”

Arlo made a sound and raised his hand as she turned and started to jog off, wobbling slightly from the uneven weight of her bag as she called out to Ginger, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

He let his hand fall and looked at Remy, who was watching him with a perfect example of a Civil Corp expression: bland politeness with the barest hint of amusement. 

Arlo rolled his eyes and got Spacer moving again. It wasn’t important, he decided. He’d just have to ask her about it the next time he saw her.

* * *

March 29th, Friday 

Leaning sideways against one of the pillars of the sky walk’s roof above Alice’s flower shop, Arlo watched the townsfolk move around below him. It always amused him, how no one ever looked up as they went about their business. Well, how _ most people _didn't, he amended as Sam glanced up and smiled at him, changing course to head towards the ramp.

He let his eyes wander, catching on Molly and Dolly as they stopped to watch Oaks look through the boxes at the side of the street. He sighed, making a mental note to talk to the strange man, _ again_, when he heard laughter. He turned, looking down towards Central Plaza, and saw Nora and Hannah standing in front of Portia Time’s newsboard. Mei was with them, waving her hands around and talking excitedly, and Hannah had her arm wrapped around Nora as she laughed, loud and free and wiping at her eyes, while Nora failed to hide her own smile behind a hand.

He felt himself start to smile, despite having no idea what they found funny. Because he knew Nora had been feeling a little lonely in Portia, so it was nice seeing her relax and enjoy herself. Hannah seemed to have that effect on people, he’d noticed; she had an ability to bring out the best in everyone, to pull people in like bees to a jar of honey. She didn’t always seem to realise it herself though, because at times she still tended to retract into her shell and act all shy. So he was glad Nora had taken her under her wing and given her a safe space to ground herself in. 

It didn’t hurt that it gave Nora a reason of her own to interact with more people around town, as an added bonus. When she’d first arrived in Portia, she’d quickly latched onto him and Sam, but then she’d sort of withdrawn from everyone else, so seeing her laugh so easily with the townspeople now was nice. And she and Hannah seemed to get along perfectly. The missionary could be a real brat when she felt like it, but he was happy she’d found someone she clicked with.

But then, he thought as he watched Hannah straighten up and rest her chin on Nora’s shoulder, and look at her with wide eyes and a pout. Maybe there was something more to it then just “clicking”, from Hannah’s perspective at any rate…? 

He chewed his lip as he considered it, thinking about the interactions he’d seen between them so far and wondering if he needed to talk to Nora about it, then pushed himself off the wall so he could go join them when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey there, Mr Captain Sir,” Sam said, pitching her tone in what he assumed was an attempt to match Hannah’s voice, and he felt his sudden good mood start to slip away.

“Don’t call me that, you know I don’t like it.”

“Mmmm,” she mused, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to stand up. “Yes, I do know, because you told me the first time I called you it. And yet I haven’t heard you tell her not to say it even once yet…”

He turned to glare at her, opening his mouth to answer when he realised that, that she was right. He hadn’t. And he had spoken to her several times now, even after he’d heard her drop the Officer for Remy, and eating dinner with her the night before when he’d joined her and Nora at the Round Table. Yet each time, he’d forgotten to ask her about it. Distracted by her smile, her laugh, the quick little jokes she made. And possibly because it didn’t sound like she was mocking him, when she said it. 

Shutting his mouth he turned back to look down the street, grunting at Sam as she patted his shoulder and left. And as he watched Hannah wipe at her eyes and help Nora to stand, he started planning how to bring it up.

* * *

March 31st, Sunday 

Arlo walked through the town gate, rubbing his hands along his thighs as he looked out over the fields, trying to calm his nerves. Nothing to be nervous about, he tried to think. What was the worst that could happen here? She kept calling him Captain Sir, which wouldn’t be the end of the world. He could get used to it. From her.

He could see her as he got closer to her yard, sitting at a chair in front of her worktable and fiddling with something small. She must have gotten Albert to move things after all, since it was now next to her gate.

He leant on the fence from the outside, not wanting to say anything and startle her in case whatever she was working on was delicate. She was humming one of the tunes from the games room, fun and happy and slightly off key. She couldn’t be good at everything he supposed, biting down his grin to keep his professional mask in place as she noticed him, blinking a few times before smiling widely.

“Oh! Hi there Mr Captain Sir! Did you need something? Sorry, I get lost in my work sometimes.”

She put down her pliers and grabbed a notepad from under a pile of tools and a pen from her ponytail, pulling stray hairs out to wisp around her face, looking up at him expectantly.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. I don’t have a job for you. I just wanted to ask you something,” he said, and then internally winced because damn, he had to do it now.

She frowned slightly, then shrugged and put the notebook back on top of the pile of tools, ignoring the clatter as they all tipped backwards across the table.

“I’m all ears Captain Sir,” she quipped as she stuck the pen back in to her hair, and it was the perfect lead in. But he still took a moment to think, watching her as she watched him, her face open and easy to read and only showing curiosity. He swallowed quickly, then went for it.

"I have told you my name is Arlo, right? Not Captain or Sir?" 

He tried to keep his expression even, unconcerned as Hannah blinked up at him, her eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter.

“I know what your name is, Captain Sir, but I was raised with manners. The Civil Corp deserve respect, and that means you get your title. Ah, hi Sam!”

Arlo glanced over his shoulder as Hannah leant round him and waved, and he saw Sam riding past on Teddy, waving cheerfully back.

“So why aren’t you using Sam’s title then? Or Remy's?” he asked, poking at the odd feeling forming in his chest as she bent back over the table, picking up the pliers again.

“Oh, they’ve both told me to drop it, because we’re friends now,” she said with a shrug as she twisted a wire into place.

Arlo crossed his arms as he leant them against the fence, weighing up his next question.

“And if I told you we were friends…?”

Her hands stilled, and he thought he saw the start of a blush on her cheeks before she shook her head, making more of her hair fall free of her ponytail and cover her face.

“Then I guess I should start practicing saying your name, huh?”


	3. Apples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah wants to make a gift for the Day of Bright Sun celebrations, but is having trouble collecting things for it. Until Arlo shows up to help.

April 17th, Wednesday 

Hannah stared up into the lush green leaves above her, eyes darting between the large red shapes glimpsing beyond. If she remembered the recipe right, she’d need five more apples, but her toes and shoulder were starting to hurt, and she hadn’t even thought of bringing a sledgehammer. She _ could _go back to get one, but then she might not have enough time to make all the pies.

She sighed, rubbing her shoulder and wishing that she could climb the tree instead, but its bark was just too smooth to get any foothold. Damn it, she’d have to use her other shoulder… She’d be completely crippled tomorrow, but at least that was better than having to disappoint everyone so soon after moving in.

Gritting her teeth, she stepped back, lowered her head and took a deep breath. Then she threw herself against the tree with all her power, grunting as the impact sent a jolt of pain through her arm and shoulder. Her right hand flew up to hold her arm as she leant against the tree, exhaling slowly through her clenched teeth. Slow freaking gooey, had she managed to get even a single apple to fall?

“Dropped something?”

Hannah raised her head and turned towards the voice, blinking when she came face to face with a horse. Looking a little past the large brown eyes, however, she saw long legs clad in grey jeans, leading up to a uniform jacket in white and yellow, and a hand in a fingerless glove holding a bright red apple in its long-fingered grip. 

“Mr Cap--Arlo!”

He quirked an eyebrow, but apart from that, his face was as impassive as always as he gazed down at her.

“Hannah,” he said by way of greeting, and even though his face revealed nothing, she thought she could hear a hint of amusement in his voice. “I believe this is yours.”

He tossed the apple in her direction, and she had just enough presence of mind to straighten and catch it in her right hand. She stared at it, then up at his bland expression, then back again, completely blanking on what to say. Already, her mind was making her imagine all the pain she would have to go through to get four more apples from the damn tree. 

She saw Arlo swing his leg over the back of his horse out of the corner of her eye, and looked up just as he dropped to his feet in the grass. 

"Step back," he said calmly, and she knew better than to disobey a direct order from a Captain, so she quickly took a couple of steps back until she was no longer shaded by the leaves of the apple tree. 

Satisfied that she was safely out of reach from whatever he intended to do, Arlo turned fully to the tree, raised his right leg and kicked the heel of his shoe into the trunk. Hannah gaped as apple after apple rained down over him, two of which he caught in his hands as he dodged to the left to avoid another that was heading straight for his head. He bent to pick up the rest--Hannah counted to six--and dropped them in the backpack she’d placed near the trunk. Then he turned to look at her, and when he saw the look on her face, a tiny little smirk tugged at his lips. She sighed and shook her head.

“Damn show-off.”

“You know,” he said, rubbing his hands free from dirt before crossing his arms over his chest and casually leaning against the tree trunk as he watched her bend down to close her bag, “if you want to get stronger, you’re welcome to come train with me and the rest of the Corps.” 

She was about to snark something about him just wanting to outshine her again, but then she thought for a moment and realised that it didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea. She was growing sick and tired of getting so exhausted whenever she hacked away in the ruins, and she didn’t want to lose any more days of work just because she’d strained her muscles the day before. And she _ had _learned some things from friends back home...

“Yeah, maybe,” she sighed, returning her attention to the bag. It just wouldn’t close, the damn thing, even though she pushed the apples down as she pulled the leather string upwards.

“So what do you need all these apples for, anyway?”

“I’m making apple pies,” she muttered as she removed one of the apples, placing it carefully in the grass beside her before trying to close the bag again. It still didn’t work, so she removed another one, and _ finally _ she was able to tug the leather string tight enough. Thank Peach.

“Are you hosting a party?” 

“What? Oh, no, this is for the celebrations on Friday.” 

Running the back of her hand across her forehead to wipe away the sweat that had gathered there, she stood up and faced Arlo. He had straightened so he wasn’t leaning against the tree anymore and tilted his head to study her face more closely, one of his eyes squeezed closed as the sun shone in his face. 

“The Day of the Bright Sun?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed happily, unsure why he was looking at her like he didn’t quite believe what she was saying. “Gale said to donate gifts, so I thought I’d bake some pies.”

“You do know those gifts will be dropped from an airship, right?”

She stared blankly at him, feeling how her grin melted off her face as her brain registered what he was saying. A… an _ airship_???

It was only because she was staring so directly at him that she noticed the little twitch in the corner of his mouth, as if he was trying to keep his face impassive, but that couldn’t be, because Arlo was _ always _stone faced, so even the thought that he would have to fight down a smile was ridiculous--

As she looked on, Arlo pursed his lips in a last desperate attempt to keep his cool, then burst out laughing, and the explosion of laughter changed his whole face. Hannah’s heart skipped as she watched him shoot out one hand to support himself against the tree trunk again, then run his other hand through his hair, slicking it back and out of his face as he kept laughing. She watched in awe, taking in the happy gleam in his eyes, the cute little dimples she’d never noticed before and the infectious mixture of chuckles and giggles that rolled out from his mouth. Was… was this what Arlo looked like when he let go? Because if it was, she never wanted him to go back to his Captain face ever again.

“Peach-sucking panbats, Hannah,” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his right eye. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

She groaned, grabbing hold of her head as she realised what this meant. “Well what am I gonna do instead? He needs the gifts in three hours!”

Arlo had stopped laughing now, but he still had that gleam in his eyes, and his lips were stuck in a grin. “You could always make some talismans or shell necklaces?” he suggested.

She sighed heavily, glancing back towards the road. It would take her at least an hour to walk all the way back to the workshop, and then she’d have to go to the beach, and back again, and make the necklaces…

“I don’t have any shells,” she grumbled, “and I won’t make it to the beach in time. Why would they drop the gifts from an _ airship? _ That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. And why would no one tell me?”

Arlo walked up to her and slipped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her close to him in an obvious attempt to comfort her. She hated to admit it, but it worked a little bit. Arlo was warm and soft, and he smelled good. Like honest sweat from hard work, from training and riding and actually moving, being active. With no attempt to cover it up with things like aftershave, he just owned it. There was that stable smell that always lingered around people who worked with animals, of hay and sawdust and just _ horse_. And then… she quickly looked at his jacket as she breathed in again, finding a tiny speck of something on his top only because she was so close to him. Spice? Hot sauce maybe? Altogether, it was entirely _ him_.

“I’ll give you a lift to the beach so you can get there faster. Ok?”

She looked up at him, saw that his grin had changed into a kind smile, and felt her heart skip a second time. The dimples were still there. She wanted to frame them and hang them on her wall.

"Really?” she asked, blushing when she heard how reverential she sounded.

“Yeah. Really. Come on, I’ll help you mount Spacer.”

After squeezing her shoulder again, he led her up to said horse and removed his arm to instead grab hold of her hips as she placed one foot in the stirrup. When she made to jump up, his grip hardened and he lifted her upwards, getting her in position to swing her leg over Spacer’s back and sit down behind the saddle. He smiled at her again, eyes still gleaming as he lifted up the backpack from the ground and fastened it behind her. Then he walked up to give Spacer’s neck a few pats before grabbing hold of the saddle. 

Just as he was about to start hoisting himself up, someone glimpsed behind the trees further ahead and, as they walked towards them and out into the sun, revealed themselves to be Aadit. He smiled in greeting.

“Hello, Hannah. Captain.”

Hannah inclined her head, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Arlo had reverted to his old impassive expression. Dimples were gone, gleam was gone, happy and relaxed Arlo was gone. She swallowed at the sudden hollowness in her chest.

“Aadit,” he said politely. “Out on a walk in the woods?”

“Just checking to make sure the trees are healthy. Found some odd tracks over by the cliffs. Maybe something for the Civil Corps to investigate?”

“Thanks, I’ll look into it.”

Aadit smiled another soft smile, then walked past them and over to the road. Arlo turned back to Spacer and hoisted himself up, getting gracefully into the saddle.

“Hold on to me, ok? We’ll go full speed to the beach.”

She complied, grabbing on to his hips, but apparently that wasn’t enough for him, because he reached back, grabbed her wrists decisively and wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling her so close that her cheek pressed against his back. Well, ok. She could live with this.

She closed her eyes, feeling how Arlo set Spacer in motion and turned him around. Portia had weird ceremonies, to be sure, but right now, she was almost grateful for that poppycock damn airship.


	4. Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets scared sometimes, and Arlo is happy to help Hannah with her fears in any way he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's worried about the drop from 33 -> 32 chapters, don't be! It's because we wrote more story!  
... Don't look at us like that, it makes perfect sense <__<;; - A_D

May 6th, Monday 

Arlo tried not to watch Hannah, sitting on the other side of the desk as he did paperwork, brow furrowed as she carefully piled up various pieces of his stationary to make…. he wasn’t quite sure what, but it seemed important to her. He shoved down the smile that wanted to break out over her actions as he focused back on rewriting Sam’s latest report into something he could actually show the Mayor. 

Though the way Hannah’s mouth moved from side to side and the way her nose scrunched up wasn't helping his concentration much. The intense focus she’d had while she made his ruler balance between two of his photos had been distracting. And then the little noises she made as she tried to settle the miniature sword stand on top of the pencil sharpener in the middle of it all kept pulling him away from deciphering Sam’s words. 

And the way she kept stroking the metal of the spare handcuffs she’d spotted under the desk, that she’d immediately grabbed and slapped around her wrist with a happy sounding sigh, kept pulling at his thoughts too.

“Hey, Arlo?”

“Yes Hannah?” he answered, scowling at Sam’s report and wanting to use some of the colourful language she’d included _ at _ his frustrating subordinate.

“Can I, can I ask a favour?”

He glanced up at her, confused, because why would she even feel the need to ask that? He looked her over properly, and felt bad as he finally noticed the way she was holding herself. How tense and unsure and uncomfortable she was, and how she wasn’t quite meeting his gaze. She’d stopped stroking the cuffs, instead gripping the connecting bar tight enough to turn her knuckles white. He let his hands holding the paperwork fall to the desk, and shifted in the chair to face her more fully, all his attention on her now.

“Of course. What’s the problem?”

Dropping her hands to her lap, she let go of the restraint to start playing with the bottom edge of her top instead, rolling and twisting and pulling at it as she stared blindly at the desk between them.

“I know you’re busy, but can you, could you come with me to the Amber Island cave while I fix something in there please?” she asked quietly, and he leant forward, not wanting to miss anything if she continued, but she didn't.

He frowned, thinking. "I can," he started slowly, trying to read her and was surprised to find he couldn't, beyond what he'd already picked up. "But why do you want me to come with you?"

“I’m kinda, I actually,” she stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath and he wanted to reach out and hold her hands and comfort her. “I’m scared of ghosts and I don’t want to go in there alone.”

Giving in to the temptation to put down the paperwork, he reached across the table to her, holding his hands out palm up and making little twitches with his fingers until she glanced up at him. He waited patiently as her eyes darted between his slight smile and his hands, then back up again. He kept waiting as her eyes scanned all over his face, apparently searching for something going by the way she bit her lip and her eyes scrunched, and she must have found it because everything about her then relaxed all at once. She let go of her top and lifted her hands to slide into his, and he gently curled his fingers around hers as his thumb stroked the backs of them.

“When do you want to go?”

She stared at him, and he again waited patiently as her mouth moved a few times, but then he felt a hint of panic as her eyes turned glassy and her fingers twitched and shit, was she crying?

“Is that, is that all you’re going to say? No questions, not telling me to grow up? No telling me to go do my job because I’m, I’m...” she choked to a stop and he silently swore as he rolled his chair sideways around the desk, not letting go of her hands, until he was right next to her.

Something in his gut twisted, and he felt the urge to find whoever had told her things like that before and have a word or two with them. He also wanted to wrap her in his arms, keep her safe, help her however he could. And then realised, there was no reason why he couldn’t do exactly that.

Tugging one hand free to lay on her shoulder, he encouraged her to turn and face him then lean forward, before wrapping his arm around her to pull her close and rub her back.

“If you’re scared, you’re scared. Nothing I say to you at this point will help you stop being scared, so all I can do, all I _ want _ to do is support you. You want me to go with you? I’ll go with you. It’s really rather simple.”

He heard her sob, and pulled his other hand from hers to reach up and thread his fingers through the hair at the base of her skull, knocking into the smooth wooden pen there and mussing her hair as he stroked up and down slowly as he continued to hold her.

“I’ll admit, I’m a little bit surprised. You didn’t seem to have any problems helping to set up the decorations in there when you were getting it ready.”

She made a sound half way between a sob and a laugh, and he felt her hands grip the front of his jacket.

"The, the ghosts were one of the last things to go in, and there were other people about so it was ok, it wasn't as scary when I knew I wasn't alone. But now, now it's the lights that need fixing, and all the ghosts are still moving around and I _ swear _ one or two of them aren't actually the stupid fake things we set up in there, because they show up in places I _ know _they shouldn't be able to. And Oaks was telling me the other day about how he and Papa bear won’t go near the cave because something smells wrong in there and--"

Shushing her, he pulled her even closer and ran his hand along her side as he moved his fingers further into her hair, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. 

"Ok, it's ok. I can go with you. Let me finish fixing Sam's report, then we can gather up some torches and lanterns and head out, ok? Come on, come sit next to me, I'll be five, no, ten minutes."

He loosened his hold on her, bringing his hands round to rest on her elbows while he kept his cheek on her head, giving her space and time to wipe her cheeks dry. He waited until she moved her head back, then pulled away and looked her over carefully. She was still more closed off than normal, but now that he knew why he had a better idea of what to look for. He nodded slightly then let go, moving his chair back round the desk then holding out his left hand to her. She stared at it blankly for a moment, then perked up, dragging her chair around the desk to sit next to him and hold his hand, resting her still flushed cheek on his shoulder.

Grumbling loudly for her benefit he worked through the rest of the report, reading out some of Sam’s more outrageous comments and making Hannah laugh as he made the report acceptable. And when it was done, he took the handcuff off her with an amused shake of his head, then waited while she gathered her tools before leading her outside to the stable.

She retied her hair then fussed over Teddy and Arrow while he saddled Spacer and grabbed a few supplies. She was good with animals he’d noticed, always carrying something to feed to Scraps, Pinky, and any of their horses when she came across them. He knew she was looking forward to the day when she could expand her workshop and build a stable and shed and have her own animals. The chickens she’d recently got weren’t the most pleasant animals, no matter what she said.

“Do you want to sit in front of or behind me?” he asked, leading Spacer from his stall. He half hoped she’d say front so he could hold her, give her the comfort he thought she still needed. And half hoped she would say behind, so if anyone saw and asked it would simply look like him giving his friend a lift. Which, of course, is all this was.

“Oh, erm, behind?” she said, sounding unsure. He nodded, mounting up, then helping her climb up behind him and get settled. She wrapped her arms around his waist without prompting, and the urge to help and protect her flared as he felt her forehead instead of her cheek settle against his back between his shoulders. He rested a hand on her arms and nudged his horse into motion, trying to think of something to distract her with.

“So. You’re going to expand your workshop soon, right? You said the other day that you can almost afford a bit more land?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, why?” she asked, voice muffled against his back.

“I was wondering what you were going to build. You’ve already got your coop and your little monsters,” he said, pausing while she giggled. “Don’t deny it, you know they only like you and Emily. Are you going to build a shed, or a stable?”

“My darlings like Oaks too, actually. And I was planning on a stable. It’d be nice to get around places easier. I mean, the Deedee’s are great, but the stops don’t go all the places I want to, and sometimes it takes a while for them to show up.”

“I can understand that. Have you decided between llamas and horses?”

He kept the conversation going as they rode through town, letting her do most of the talking as she debated with herself the merits of either mount. He nodded to the people they passed, ignoring the looks of surprise or curiosity they sent them as Hannah chatted away behind him with her face still leaning against his back, about the material cost of building traps for llamas and hoping you get a nice one, versus just buying a horse you can meet first. 

He got her to look up as they trotted down the road when he pointed out one of the small herds of llamas, telling her how Higgins had angered the Mama of the group last summer, and the Cotton Llama chased him from the gate all the way to the Civil Corps building, and stayed there until Remy coaxed it back to its herd.

She’d started to relax and had propped herself up to rest her cheek on his shoulder while he talked, but she sank down again when they reached the Amber Island bridge. He felt her fingers clench into his jacket against his stomach, and he shifted his reins so he could stroke the backs of her hands. They crossed the bridge in silence, which then hung heavily over them during the short ride to the cave. He pulled Spacer to a stop next to the rocks around the corner from the entrance and looked over his shoulder at the top of her head.

“Liuwa is probably there,” he muttered quietly, hoping his voice wouldn’t carry to the man. “So let’s dismount now so we don’t have to talk to him for so long, ok? Here, slide off towards the rock, there you go.”

He held out his arm for her to hold on to as she slid sideways until her foot found the rock, then as she wobbled while her other leg got stuck across Spacer’s back. He tried not to look at her leg propped up like that, bare since she was wearing shorts despite the slight nip still in the air, instead focusing on trying to bite down his laugh, but the embarrassed scowl she gave him made him think he hadn't hidden his amused smile as well as he’d hoped. 

After dismounting himself he took a second to straighten his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles from where she’d gripped his jacket before she could see them, then started to lead them round the corner. Liuwa stood up when he caught sight of them, and he nodded to the other man.

“Captain Arlo, it’s nice to see you. But is there a problem? I was only expecting Hannah to come for the lights.” Liuwa said, looking between the him and Hannah, and he stamped down the urge to shift and stand in front of her.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. When Hannah told me about the lights going, I thought it might be a good idea to do a quick check, given the previous problems with Bandirats moving in. Would you mind watching Spacer while I’m in there?”

“Of course Captain, would be a pleasure.”

“Yes, thank you. We won’t be too long. Don’t let anyone else in until we give you the all clear.”

Arlo grabbed the bag filled with lanterns and torches from the saddle, then nodded again to Liuwa as he gestured for Hannah to follow him. He pulled one of the larger lanterns out and turned it on, wincing slightly at the bright light, but it did its job of illuminating the shadows well enough.

They walked in silence into the cave, passing the table with the scare soakers on it, and he stopped them at the start of the downward slope and held out his hand to her. She immediately took it and stepped closer, the hand not in his reaching up to grip his elbow.

He wanted to wrap his arm around her instead, make her feel safe, even as a tiny part of him wanted to reassure himself, but he knew that wouldn’t be practical. He shook his head slightly, trying to think.

“Do you have any idea where the problem might be?”

“Probably by the generator right in the middle, knowing my luck,” she said, though it was muffled by his sleeve as she pressed her face into his arm.

“Ok, we can start there. Is there any way to turn off the ghosts?” he asked, eyeing the two he could see half way down the slope. “Or the booby traps?”

She pressed her face harder against him and groaned.

“That would make sense. That would make so much sense. Why didn’t I do that when I installed the stupid things?”

“Something to think about after we’re done with this and get out of here. Let’s get moving, ok? The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave. You can stay like that if you need to, I’ll warn you if they come near. Actually, if you can carry the lantern I’ll grab a scare soaker, and then they won’t bother us at all. Sound good?”

She nodded and reluctantly pulled away, and he handed over the lantern before dashing to the table and grabbing the first gun he found, then hurrying back to her and letting her hold his hand again. He rubbed his thumb over the backs of her shaking fingers, then got them moving.

“Have I told you the mudcrab story, from when I first joined the Civil Corps?” he asked lightly, steering her away from the first ghost as it drifted near them before shooting it. “I was a reckless idiot when I first started, and I got it in my head that the mudcrabs who lived up near the falls were a problem that needed to be dealt with.”

He filled the slow trip through the caves to the middle room with silly stories from when he was first starting out, surprising laughs from her occasionally. He kept himself between her and the ghosts at all times, warning her when he was about to shoot any of them. He got them across the large room to the generator, and he could tell they were in the right place from the sparking panel in the control unit next to it.

“Looks like you'll need both your hands,” he said, shrugging his shoulder and trying to make her look up, setting the scare soaker down. ”How about I stand behind you and hold up the light?”

He saw her bite her lip even as she nodded, and it made his chest ache. Because she obviously needed more than that, but wasn’t going to ask for it.

“Here, I meant like this.”

Turning her to face the panel, he let go of her fingers and took a step around her. He stood right behind her, resting his hand carefully on her waist and leaning his cheek against the side of her head and he felt her relax against him. Nothing big or obvious, but her shoulders dropped and she was breathing easier, and he was both amazed and humbled that she was finding him simply being here so comforting. He took the lantern from her and held it up so it shed its light directly into the panel, and she flipped the main power switch before she pulled things from her belt and got to work.

“I’m sorry Arlo,” she said quietly, leaning forward to starting to move things inside the panel. “I don’t normally get this worked up over things, I promise. I just got a letter from one of my friends this morning, and it’s-.”

He stroked his fingers along her side and turned his head to make soothing noises into her hair.

“It’s fine Hannah, you don’t need to explain anything. You’re allowed to be upset and ask for help, ok? Whatever the reason.”

She took a slow, trembling breath, then let it out slowly. She nodded once, and bent forward again and pulled more things from her belt. She worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds their breathing and the soft clatter of her tools. He looked over his shoulder at the ghosts as they moved around, and let his eyes quickly scan the walls and ceiling before he made himself look back over Hannah’s shoulder at her work.

“Is your friend ok?” he asked, then immediately regretted it. If they weren’t then that was one of the most stupid things he could have done, when she’d been in the zone and stopped thinking about whatever had happened.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. He’s fine. It was his birthday on Saturday. He turned twenty. It was, it was only the second I’ve not spent with him since we were four. It’s made me kinda homesick for him.”

She trailed off, hands stilling as she sniffed quietly, before delving back into the panel. He nodded absently, trying to remember if she’d mentioned any of her friends to him before, but coming up blank. 

“Not that I’m complaining,” she started slowly, and he felt his shoulders tense at her tone even though he knew she was just trying to fill the silence again. “But why are you being so good about me being scared?”

Sighing, he turned to lean his forehead on her hair. He’d known this was probably coming at some point, but it didn’t make it easier to talk about.

“It’s because I know what it’s like to have fears, and have people laugh at you for them. And because I know how much it can help to have someone accept them, and help you with them.”

She paused, and twisted her head to look at him, even though she couldn’t at this angle as he moved with her.

“What, what are you scared of?”

He opened his mouth, debating with himself about telling her. On the one hand, if it got out then people might lose faith in him. On the other, she'd trusted him with her fear, and he knew he could trust her not to tell anyone or laugh at him. 

“I used to be scared of being underground, because I’m terrified of the possibility of being buried alive,” he made himself say steadily, and held still as he felt her freeze.

“Wha… shit Arlo, if you’d said that I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

He moved his hand from her waist around to pull her into a hug, stopping her mid sentence.

“It’s fine Hannah. I used to be scared. I learnt to deal with it, because it’s part of my job. If I couldn’t handle coming in here with you, I wouldn’t be much good as the Captain, right? And besides, the probability of me or anyone I care about being buried alive is minimal in this age. I’m only scared because of stories my grandmother used to tell me, from the age of darkness. Stories about abandoned rooms collapsing and everyone inside…”

He stopped, trying to control his breathing. He felt a hand in his hair, stroking it softly at an odd angle at the same time as he felt fingers intertwine with his, a thumb stroking the back of his hand. Hannah was murmuring soothing words to him, and damn, he was meant to be the one here for her, but he couldn’t make himself pull away just yet.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Arlo, I’m so, no, I mean. Thank you for coming in here with me. I’ll be two more minutes, I’m nearly done, and then we can get out of here, ok? Just two more minutes and then I’ll buy you whatever you want from the Round Table. I’ll get you your seafood noodles, and then some spicy spaghetti to take home, and you like that red tea stuff, right?”

He let himself laugh because really, what was she like? He pulled back, letting his hand move back to lightly rest on her waist and gently shook her hand from his hair.

“That’s not necessary, but I appreciate the thought. How about I buy you lunch though, as a well done for getting through this? And we can work out when we can come back and move some of these controls to the entrance maybe? Or at least make a remote cut off system for the ghosts?”

Her hands immediately dove back inside the panel, and he shifted the torch so she could see better. 

“Now that is a plan I can get behind,” she muttered, in the most normal tone of voice he’d heard from her since before she’d first asked him to join her.


	5. Special Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo will always make time to help his friends when they need it.

May 8th, Wednesday 

Arlo knocked on the door then leant against the wall next to it, shifting the bag he carried to his other side to keep it in the shade. He nodded at Paulie as he jogged by the fence, and was about to call out a greeting when he heard a thump and cursing from inside the house. He straightened, turning back to the door as it swung open, revealing a distressed looking Hannah.

Her hair was piled up messily on her head, and she was wearing a baggy t-shirt and old sweatpants, both with small holes dotted around and a massive wet patch covering the front. She looked pale, and had slight smudges under her eyes he noted, right before he realised she was staring at him with an almost amused expression, if not for the slight creases that gave away the fact that she was in pain.

“Arlo?” she asked, in not quite the cheerful tone she normally said his name in. “Did you need something? I’m not up for working on any commissions today.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he was quick to reassure her, bringing the bag forward so she could see it. “Nora asked me to drop this off for you? She said you weren’t feeling well, do you need me to go get Xu?”

Snorting while taking the bag from him, she looked inside then immediately perked up a bit as she reached in, pulling out a bottle of milkshake with a small twitch of her lips.

“Not unless Xu has found a way to stop my internal organs from making their monthly attempt on my sanity,” she joked, before popping the lid and starting to drink.

“Ah,” he muttered, finally understanding Nora’s looks and little comments about seeing if he could help her feel better as he shifted on his feet. “Did you need anything else? I know this is a bunch of your favourites from the Round Table Nora got for you.”

Lowering the drink with a happy sound, she looked in the bag again, then shook her head before smiling back up at him more fully than before.

“Not unless you want to come in and stroke my hair and be my hot water bottle for the day?” she laughed lightly. Then added, “Mine just burst,” with a grin, waving her hand at her damp top.

He hesitated, thinking. He had patrols and paperwork to do, and it was his turn to clean out the stables and go fetch more feed for the horses. But the thought of staying with her, helping her feel better and possibly easing some of the pain he could see in her face, was _ very _ tempting. Especially now that he knew how much she disliked asking for help.

She must have seen the dilemma in his face, because her smile became softer. “It’s ok Arlo, I was joking. I know you’re probably busy, I wasn’t expecting you to stay with me.” She paused, her lips wavering as she glanced down, then went on in a small, quiet voice that he was pretty sure he wasn’t meant to hear. “You aren’t Zack.” 

Smiling brightly again and continuing in her usual upbeat tone before he could react to that, she continued. “But if you see Nora or Sam on your way back, could you ask them if I can borrow one of their hot water bottles, until I can make a new one?”

That settled it.

“Actually, if you give me an hour to sort out a few things at the Corps stable and grab my paperwork, I can come back?”

Her mouth dropped open, and he tried not to be surprised by her surprise. She nodded silently, and he felt his shoulders relax, though he couldn’t think when he’d tensed them.

“Ok then. Don’t eat everything in there all at once,” he told her, gesturing to the bag. “And if there are any crispy pancakes, save some for me.”

* * *

May 19th, Sunday 

Arlo bit his lip to keep from laughing as he looked down at Hannah. She was leaning back against a tree near the bridge to Amber Island, where Gust liked to paint. Legs pulled up and hugging Pinky, making little snuffly snoring noises as she slept.

Pinky looked up at him, and he’d be tempted to think the animal felt betrayed and resigned from the face she pulled.

Shaking his head as he crouched down next to them, he gently reached out to grip Hannah’s arms and pulled them away from the cat, allowing Pinky to jump free and scurry a little way off before turning back to glare at the humans. He watched, amused, as she then sat down to clean herself, before turning his attention back to Hannah.

Hannah, who was still asleep, but whose face was now scrunched up unhappily as her fingers grabbed at thin air, until he moved one of his hands into her grip and she settled.

He scanned the area again, trying to work out what she’d been doing before apparently deciding next to the road was a good place to nap instead of coming to train with him like they’d agreed. No axe or pickaxe, no bulging bag of stones, no fishing pole or bait, and no signs of Oaks who he’d seen her out and about with a few time now. So what was she…

Ah, he thought, finding her knocked over bag spilling apples and fruits. Gathering things to do some baking then, but must have stopped to watch the sunset that had only just finished.

Reaching out to flip the bag shut, he slid the buckles home one handed before slinging it over his shoulders. She whimpered slightly, face screwing up again when he let go of her hands, and he paused. Because if this was anyone else, he’d wake them up, talk to them about falling asleep somewhere so dangerous, where mudcrabs and snaillobs could get them, maybe escort them home.

But this was Hannah. 

The normally energetic Hannah whom he’d watched fall asleep over her dinner with Nora only the night before, and who had been running herself ragged lately trying to keep up with all the commissions and projects she got herself signed up for. Like the extra training with him on Thursday and Sundays, which she’d obviously forgotten today.

Bubbly, cheerful Hannah, who was seeming more and more listless and homesick lately. Especially after her best friend’s birthday two weeks ago, and then her own birthday last Sunday. Which she hadn’t even _ mentioned _ to anyone until a single offhand comment to him when leaving the Corps at the end of their training evening.

Kind and wonderful Hannah, who was missing her old friends, and needing all the help and comfort she could get right now, and who could most _ definitely _ do with the extra sleep.

He leant forward to lift her arms around his neck, then slide his own around her back and under her legs, lifting her up and standing. He bit down his smile at the happy sounds she made, and the way she wrapped her arms around him to hold him close, because she was asleep, and not entirely responsible for her actions. 

Well, he thought, turning towards her house. No one needed to know she was getting special treatment. Not if he cut across the llama field to take her home.

* * *

May 23rd, Thursday 

Arlo laughed quietly as he pushed open the door to the Corps, hugging Nora’s shoulders one last time before letting her go. She was shaking her head, her eyes dancing as she looked up at him and clearly planning a sassy comeback when a loud yelp of pain made them both stop just inside the doorway. 

Looking at Remy, sitting calmly at the desk next to the request board and going through paperwork, he received no answer to his silent question as his friend merely nodded a greeting and let a smile play across his lips. Another yelp rang out, and he placed it as Sam’s voice, but this time it was quickly followed by a soft laugh. And that laugh was…

He stepped forward quickly and quietly, Nora at his side looking a mix of concerned and amused. He looked through the bars of the cell towards the seating area in front of his room, and lifted a brow at the sight.

Sam was laying face down on the couch. She'd taken her jacket, hat, and shoes off and piled them on the floor next to it. One of her arms was hanging off the edge so her fingers brushed the floor, and her feet were propped up on the armrest. Hannah was straddling her lower back, leaning forward as her hands moved in small circles across one of Sam’s shoulders, and had a wide, cheeky smile spread across her lips. 

He stopped next to the corner of the cage, amused now he knew what was going on as Sam made another noise of discomfort, and he felt a smile of his own start to form as he saw something sparkle in Hannah’s eyes. She leant forward further, applying more pressure to one particular spot, and Sam’s feet started to flail against the arm rest as she started to curse and groan.

“And this is why we stretch,” Hannah teased around a giggle, her fingers starting to move in long slow strokes from where she’d been pushing outwards. She leant forward, bending almost in half over Sam’s back as she lowered her head down next to Sam’s, apparently trying to catch her eye. “Really Sam, Arlo’s only been insisting it’s the most important part of training every session I’ve had with him. I can’t believe you don’t know it too.”

Sam mumbled something, and then Hannah was giggling, and shifting even closer to her. A glance at Nora showed her watching the two women with a curious expression, and he sighed. Because as much fun as it was to hear Sam suffer the consequences of her actions, or apparent _ lack _of actions in this case, it was probably time for him to interrupt and remind them that other people were in the building.

“Neither can I,” he said, taking a solid step forward which caused his shoe to clack against the wooden flooring. Hannah’s head snapped up to face him, and he saw surprise cross her face before it settled back into a happy smile, a hint of colour filling her cheeks as her eyes flickered past him to Nora at his side, and she sat herself up and moved her fingers to rest in the middle of Sam’s back. He stopped next to the couch to look down at Sam, who had turned her head to look up at him from the corner of one eye. “Stretching should be second nature before training by now Sam, how did you manage to hurt yourself?”

His teammate sighed, and lifted her head high enough to see him properly to shoot him a playful glare as she shifted an arm around to try and grab at one of Hannah’s hands.

“I was trying to show Hannah some of the bodyweight exercises you can do when you've mastered the basics, but it's been a while since I last tried and I forgot some things. So she offered a backrub and I swear Arlo, she’s even better than Phyllis! She’s got magic fingers, I’m almost tempted to not stretch ever again just so she can do this each time!”

He huffed a laugh as Sam managed to get one of Hannah’s hands and placed it on her neck as she lay down again, her face flat against one of the cushions. Hannah looked up at him, cheeks a light pink colour as she searched his face, looking slightly unsure as she then glanced at Nora, then the clock.

“You should go ahead and finish, or she’ll stick around and be a pest all evening while we try to train," he told her with a sigh and eye roll.

Sam started to mutter something that sounded vaguely mutinous before it dissolved into a groan as Hannah’s fingers pressed into her skin and started to move in small circles. He watched for a moment before turning away and heading to the stairs to the storage area above the cell, keeping half an eye on what they were doing as he climbed. Nora had moved to perch on the arm rest by Sam’s head, lifting her feet onto the seat and then leaning her elbows on her knees as she watched Hannah’s technique.

“Who taught you to give massages? People are a little different to the things you normally fix aren’t they?” he heard Nora ask as he started to gather Hannah’s training equipment. A foam mat for stretching, the small handles for teaching her proper push up form, one of the metal frames to maybe start her on pull ups. He was eyeing the weighted wrist and ankle bands when she laughed brightly, and he felt his own smile grow again at the sound.

“I've never had real training from a medic or anything. We all started trying to learn when we were around eleven I think? Two of my friends liked to exercise and were aching all the time, another kept lifting things wrong at her family's bakery, and I spent ages leaning over my desk. So at first we learned from poking at each other and seeing what made things better," she started saying, and he snorted a laugh at the mental image that gave him as he grabbed the things he’d already found and walked down the stairs again. 

"And then me and Zack started going to the library and pestering the workers for medical textbooks to try and learn, and it was probably a coincidence but after a few weeks of that we went in and there were a couple of people there giving free shoulder rubs to students who were stressed. So we kinda just followed them around all day watching and asking questions…"

Both Nora and Sam laughed at that, and he chuckled as he walked past them, carrying the equipment to the area under the plane model, shaking his head as he went. He caught her eye as he walked behind Nora, and she grinned sheepishly at him, looking slightly embarrassed.

“That helped a lot. They were so super helpful, and they pointed us at some books we wouldn’t have thought to look at. But yeah, when you get down to it, people really aren't that different to what I normally fix,” he heard her say over Sam's relieved sigh. “Muscles are just squishy pistons and pulleys really.”

Setting the equipment down and walking back over, he moved to lean on the back of the couch and watched as she rolled her palm against a spot on Sam’s back a few more times, then pulled back and tilted her head to the side.

“How’s that feeling now?”

“Amazing and I love you,” Sam groaned, rolling her shoulders without lifting her head, and he shook his head again while Nora started to giggle. “Now do Nora’s foot, she was complaining all morning that it hurt.” He watched as Hannah turned to Nora, lifting her brows as Nora blinked at Sam, then sighed.

“Sam, you can’t just demand things like that.”

“If you hurt then I don’t mind. I mean, if I have time?” Hannah offered to Nora as she looked up at him, climbing off Sam. Her expression was a mix of guarded hope, pleading, and uncertainty. His eyes flicked from her to the clock on the wall, and he sighed, shrugging as he pushed himself off the back of the couch to walk around and sit in one of the smaller chairs instead.

“The later you start training the later you’ll finish, since you’re doing at least two hours today, so go for it.”

“Maybe when you’ve done Nora you can work on Arlo too,” Sam muttered, swapping places with Nora to sit on the arm of the chair while Nora leant back against her legs to lift her feet into Hannah’s lap. “Maybe your magic fingers will finally get him to unwind a little.”

“Sam!” Hannah spluttered, her cheeks glowing pink, but then she turned to give him an assessing look as Sam cackled. He met her eyes, surprised by the intensity.

“Is that something you’d want Arlo? I have seen you favouring your right shoulder before.” 

“Ah, maybe at some point,” he hedged, shooting Sam a glare as she kept laughing. “But not tonight thanks.”

She nodded and turned back to Nora’s foot, running her thumb carefully along the length of the arch, and he leant back in his chair to watch and wait. He tuned out Sam and Nora's playful bickering as he started to run through various exercises he and Hannah could do tonight, and what they could put off until Sunday when they could go outside.

And he _ definitely _ wasn't trying to work out what was going on between Sam, Nora, and Hannah anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small reminder that feedback of any kind feeds our souls and will make us cry with happiness, and can only result in encouraging us to write even more content .  
Getting a comment as simple as "this is great", or "I love this", or "=) " WILL result in us bouncing excitedly and starting to brainstorm what to do next for you all, and we are so grateful for the comments that have been left so far <3 A_D


	6. Nicknames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking in on a conversation leads to an interesting question.

May 31st, Friday 

Arlo pulled open the doors to the Round Table and stepped inside, scanning the room with a trained gaze. The restaurant was usually mostly empty at this time of day, so if Sonia hadn’t called out to him and told him Sam was in here, he wouldn’t have even bothered to look. But the waitress was true to her word, because his gaze landed on a group of three women over by a booth in the corner, and one of them wore her telltale aviator hat and goggles.

She was grinning, leaning on the back of Nora’s chair with one of her hands idly playing with the missionary’s long hair as she leant in towards Hannah on the other side of the table, throwing a glance in Arlo’s direction. She was saying something, and as he walked closer, he could discern the end of her sentence.

“... someone else who likes hot stuff.”

Hannah turned around in her chair, and now all three women were looking at him as he strode the last couple of steps up to their table.

“Hiya Boss,” Sam said as she straightened again. “Just taking a short break. I’ll be back on patrol in a sec.”

“No rush,” he assured her before turning to the others. “Hello there, Nora. Hannah.”

“Hi Arlo,” Nora said with the familiar smug smile she only wore among close friends; the one that was so different to the plain, kind smile she gave to visitors to the church--or other townspeople for that matter.

Hannah’s smile was more open and candid, though; like his mere presence made her feel safe and relaxed. She’d only started giving him that smile recently, and he was already addicted to it. “Hey! Wanna join us for lunch?”

“I’d love to, but I still have some business to attend to.” He inclined his head towards his colleague. “Do you have a moment, Sam?”

“In a minute,” she said. “Hannah was just telling us about the food in Barnarock.”

“Oh, I was basically finished,” Hannah hurried to say, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Don’t let me hold you up if you have work to do.”

Arlo shook his head as he leant forward to rest some of his weight against the back of Hannah’s chair. “It can wait a while longer. Go on.”

She hesitated, glancing at Nora, who nodded in encouragement. “Well, ok then. As I was saying…”

He listened as Hannah continued her story from where she’d apparently left off before he joined them, and as she became more and more comfortable, her hands and arms started gesturing more vividly, and her face grew more animated. He found himself smiling fondly at how invested she got in her own story, even as he watched the pen stuck in her hair start to shake loose. A quick glance at the others told him they enjoyed it too, leaning in closer and nodding or grimacing at certain points. This was just the way Hannah was; she drew people in, like a cool river on a hot Summer’s day.

When she was finished, Nora immediately piped in with comparisons of the food in Atara, and as she and Hannah discussed, Arlo noticed that Nora called Hannah ‘Hot Stuff’ not once, but twice. And he seemed to be the only one left out of the loop on that nickname, because even though Hannah winced slightly the first time, none of them seemed surprised or confused about the meaning of the name.

_It’s a strange nickname,_ he thought as he tried to figure out where it came from. Not that Hannah wasn’t good-looking, but why would Nora call her something that was purely based on her looks? She didn’t normally give out nicknames to other people like that. But then, Sam had probably started it before he got there and she was just carrying it on, surely.

When Sam then joined in and called her Hot Stuff a third time, he couldn’t stand not knowing for any longer, so while Sam and Nora bickered playfully about which town had the best desserts, Arlo leant in closer towards Hannah’s ear.

“So why exactly,” he asked in a lowered voice, “are you _ Hot Stuff _then, Hannah?”

He hadn’t meant for the question to carry to the others, but apparently it did. Because the three women froze almost simultaneously, and therefore so did Arlo, alarm bells ringing somewhere in the back of his mind as he looked around in confusion. His gaze moved from Sam, who looked uncharacteristically stumped, to Nora, who blinked at him in shocked awe, to finally land on Hannah, whom he only saw from behind but whose cheeks were very clearly colouring in a deep red tint. Her shoulders moved as she drew in a sharp breath, and then her head turned halfway to look up at him from the side, lips parted as her wide eyes darted across his face.

“W-why--I’m called--I, I mean--”

She cut herself off as Sam and Nora burst into laughter, and Hannah quickly jerked her head back around, mumbling something below her breath. Arlo found himself staring at the side of her face, eyes running across the angle of her jaw, feeling an unexpected blush start to form on his own cheeks. What… in the world… He tried to swallow down the strange feeling in his chest, but it just seemed to make it deepen and spread, kindling something to life in his lower abdomen as he watched Hannah drop her head to the table, whining. _ Pea pecking pinecock, why is that so adorable? _

He straightened and removed his hands from the chair as Sam walked up beside him to pat Hannah on the back, still chuckling. “You need a cold drink, Hot Stuff?”

Hannah sat up straight, turning to give Sam the deadliest glare Arlo had ever seen her give anyone, and it was such a new, fascinating look on her that he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as the glare darted over to him for a second before turning into deep embarrassment, her cheeks darkening even further. Arlo felt the newly kindled fire in his body spark and hiss as his brain drew parallels it really shouldn’t be drawing right now, here, when he was standing in a public place in official capacity. 

Because she’d clearly reacted differently to _ him _calling her Hot Stuff than to Nora or Sam doing it, and that had to mean… that had to mean something, right? Had to mean he’d been completely wrong to assume the things he had about her?

“Yeah,” Hannah muttered. “That sounds good.”

“Coming right up,” Sam said, making a quick salute with her hand shooting out from her forehead. But before she could take more than two steps towards the bar, Arlo gripped her upper arm, halting her in her movement.

“Actually,” he said, clearing his throat, partly to remind himself why he came here in the first place and partly to rid his mind of the images it had insisted on conjuring up for him, “about why I came here looking for you, Sam, I need you to come with me to the Corps building. Your latest report needs some…” He hesitated as he eyed the other two women. “... adjustments, and it’s due this afternoon.”

Her grin faltered slightly as she looked at him. “Huh… Ok.” She turned back to Hannah and Nora, who had an intense whisper-conversation with each other across the table. “Nora, can you get her a drink? And one for yourself too, on _ my _tab this time,” she emphasised playfully, waving a finger at Nora. 

Nora looked up, nodding thoughtfully as her gaze moved between Sam and him. Then she perked up and gave them a smile. “I’ll make sure she gets something with lots of ice.”

Sam winked. “Make sure there’s some alcohol in there too.”

Hannah groaned in the background as Sam wrapped an arm around Arlo’s back and turned him around, urging him to start walking towards the front door of the restaurant. He shrugged her off, glancing over one shoulder to catch one last look at Hannah’s flustered face before Sam guided him out through the door.

“So what ‘adjustments’ does my report need?”

He reluctantly returned his attention to his colleague, who looked straight ahead as they strode across the plaza together. After looking around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear, he quietly replied, “It was literally illegible. Did you write it on the back of a galloping horse?”

One corner of her mouth twitched. “No, but that’s an interesting idea.”

Arlo gave her an admonishing look. “Sam…”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she assured him, holding up her hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be clearer in the future.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes but allowing himself a small smile. At least having Sam on his team meant never having a boring day at work.

Sam turned to him with a sly grin as they passed the graveyard. “So. What was that thing with Hannah just now?”

He kept his gaze straight ahead and his face level even as his heart rumbled in his chest. _ That thing. _ So he wasn’t the only one who noticed it, then.

“I mean,” she continued, “you nearly broke the poor girl. That whole husky man voice, speaking her nickname like it was some kind of lewd incantation?” Her eyes danced in amusement as she kept looking at him from the side. “I didn’t know you'd grown into such a ladies’ man, Boss.”

Arlo quickly turned his face away as he felt his cheeks flush. “I… I didn’t… It wasn’t my intention to--”

“Calm down, buddy,” Sam chuckled beside him, patting him on the back as they took a right at the next junction. “It’s not the end of the world. Hannah’s an adult, and there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun if you’re both on board.”

He winced. There was no easy way to ask this, but he _ needed _ to know for sure, so he’d just have to push his way through it. 

“Sam,” he started quietly, waiting until he caught her gaze before continuing. “I need you to be clear with me. Are you saying…” He paused, swallowing hard. “Are you saying Hannah isn’t gay?”

Sam blinked, then burst into laughter. “Gay? Oh-hoh, Arlo, you poor bastard…”

When he just glared at her, she let out one last chuckle before wiping tears out of her eyes. 

“I’m sorry! Really, it’s a valid concern, but no, Hannah isn’t gay.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. But still, something was gnawing on his mind, and he needed to be absolutely _ certain _this time. So he stopped and grabbed on to Sam’s sleeve, causing her to slow to a stop and give him a surprised look.

“Are you sure?” he asked even more quietly than before, so Sam had to lean in closer to hear. “The way she’s been draping herself over Nora’s shoulders…” He trailed off, unable to make himself go on.

Sam stared at him blankly for a moment, before her lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Oh, that. No, Hannah’s just real touchy feely. She loves hanging off anyone who lets her. You should try it sometime.” She winked and elbowed him playfully in the side, at which he gave her a stern look. But that just made her laugh again. “You have nothing to worry about, ok? Hannah is definitely interested in guys. Shit, you should’ve seen the way she ogled you the first time she saw you. I’m not sure she’s realised it herself yet, but trust me, that girl is _ into _you.” 

He drew in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, just barely managing to stop himself from asking, _ ‘Do you really think so?’ _ What was he even thinking? Just because Hannah apparently wasn’t gay like he’d thought, his brain had decided he was now interested in her? 

Or… or had he been interested all along?

“To answer your other question,” Sam went on as he struggled with himself, “we started calling her Hot Stuff because she’s crazy about spicy food, apparently. Just like a certain Captain I know.”

Oh but of course. Why couldn’t they have come up with a less double-edged nickname? Like… Like Crazy Chili? Or even better, Mouth Burn?

“It was Nora’s idea,” she added as an afterthought.

That made him start. “_Nora _?”

“Yup. Your ‘little sister’ has her moments.” She smirked at him. “Anyway, try to play nice with Hannah. I know it's not easy to be hit on by such a handsome and powerful man as _ you _.”

She started walking again, and he drew in a deep breath, intending to tell her in moderately polite words to shut up, but then he stopped himself. His brain pulled up a memory, reminding him of how flustered Hannah had become just from one simple question, and as he saw her parted lips and her dark cheeks before his mind’s eye, the fire sparked to life within him again. 

That look on her face… The way her eyes had darkened as Sam offered to get her a cold drink, and how she’d then turned that gaze towards _ him _... He bit his lip to stop an impatient moan from slipping out. Peaches, he needed to have her look at him like that again.

Had it just been a fluke, or was Sam right? Could he make her react the same way a second time? Could he make her that flustered again just by quietly calling her Hot Stuff? And if he could… did he want to?

He swallowed as the thought grew and flourished in his mind, taking root in his brain and filling his entire head with pleasant images. Ok, yeah. Maybe… Maybe Sam wasn’t being completely ridiculous after all. Maybe he _ did _want to have a little fun with Hannah.


	7. Push Ups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly competition in town to find the strongest person! What could possibly happen?

June 3rd, Monday 

Hannah laughed and re-tied her hair back as she looked over the crowd of people scattered around Peach Plaza waiting to watch the competition. She shifted her pen back into her ponytail, then started to slide her jacket off her shoulders and had to smile at the whistles and voices cheering her name, only turning to pull a face at Sam when she heard her friend join in the calls.

She threw her jacket onto the wall at the edge of the steps by the Commerce Guild, then turned and walked to stand with her friends in front of the fountain, stretching her arms out as she reached them before rolling her shoulders and hooking her tank top’s strap back into place.

“So why am I doing this again?” she asked playfully, hip checking Sam instead of pulling her into a hug, since they were in public and she wasn’t sure how Sam would feel about indulging her need for contact in front of everyone here.

“Because Arlo wouldn’t compete if it was just him against just Paulie,” Sam said quickly and quietly out the side of her mouth, before bumping Hannah back and continuing at a more normal volume. “Because we need to prove to these great lugs that we are just as good as they are, and I didn’t want to do it by myself!” Sam said with a huge grin, kneeling down next to Emily and sliding her feet backwards along the ground. 

Hannah chuckled and sank to her own knees, grimacing at the feel of the dirt that immediately stuck to her skin before shifting them back until she was level with Sam on one side, and Arlo on the other. Arlo who was looking between her and Sam with an amused, calculating expression, before he simply shrugged and winked at her.

“Ok, so like, let’s get this push up competition started!” Sonia called from in front of them, stopping Hannah from wondering what that wink could mean. Because she hadn't seen him since Friday, when he'd called her Hot Stuff and left her a blushing mess. She'd skipped training last night by sending Toby up with a note claiming a headache. So that wink was...

“The rules are as follows. Each round is one minute long, and you have to do so many push ups within that minute. So if you do them all quickly, you can rest until the next round starts, and there will be a thirty second break between each round. If you fall over or don’t get them all done, you are out! We’ll start off nice and easy, with the first round being five push ups!”

Hannah nodded along with everyone else, sharing a look with Sam whose eyes danced with amusement.

“And the prizes are everyone gets a dessert from Django for taking part, but the winner gets a full meal of their choice! And of course, bragging rights of being the manliest in town. Oops, sorry girls, I mean the strongest _ person_. So are we ready? Great! Then let’s go!”

Hannah heard Emily snort a laughter as she looked over the other people taking part lined up opposite them. She nodded at Paulie, Lucy, and Mars, then grinned at Oaks who was directly across from her. Everyone settled down on hands and knees, looking up at Sonia standing on the edge of the fountain, and waited for her signal. She held a whistle to her lips, eyes glued to the clock she held, and let out a sharp blast.

Hannah quickly did the first push up, humming happily at how smooth and natural it felt compared to before Arlo and Sam had taught her proper form a few weeks ago. She breezed through the first set of five before letting her knees down and rolling each of her wrists as she waited for Sonia to mark the break, then the start of the second round. A quick glance down the lines showed everyone seemed to have managed the first round without problems.

“Well done everyone! That was great. Next round is six per minute.”

Hannah stretched herself out again, and looked at Sam, who was facing the other way and saying something to Emily, so she turned to Arlo. Arlo who was looking almost bored as he held himself ready, despite the tension she could see in his arms and shoulders thanks to his lack of jacket right now. His t-shirt was pulling against his muscles, and she made herself look away before she got too distracted.

“What’s up?” she asked just as the whistle sounded, and they lowered and rose in synch.

“Nothing much, I’m just wondering how far everyone will get is all. And thinking I need to talk to Mei again about placing bets,” he said, raising his voice slightly so it carried and making the woman in question jump. “Isn’t that right Mei.”

Hannah snorted, dropping her head and biting her lip to hold in the giggles as she worked through the rest of the set as Mei spluttered from the crowd. She wasn’t surprised to hear an ouff in the middle of the third round, and she looked around to see Mars walking over to Carol, laughing and shaking out his arms.

“To be fair, Mars did better than I expected,” Sam whispered to her, keeping her head down, and Hannah found herself agreeing.

“So Sam,” she said brightly. “You were going to tell me about what you found in the heights the other day?”

“Oh, right! Yeah, it was super weird, I was up by where Huss and Tuss are building their house, and…”

She chatted lightly with Sam and Emily as the rounds progressed, finishing quickly and sitting back while the others did theirs. Lucy made it to the end of the nine per round before her arms gave out on her. Hannah found herself smiling and cheering along with the school children as Lucy laughed and joined the crowd. Polly was telling the teacher she’d done thirty five push ups in seven minutes and Hannah felt her brain stall because actually, that was right. While each round was only a few at a time, they were adding up.

Hannah dropped to her elbows for a quick respite during the break after the eleven set, letting her head hang as she tried to breathe normally. She hadn’t considered herself out of shape, but she had to admit she was starting to feel the strain. She’d had to stop answering Sam in the last round, though Sam was still happily chatting away about what the lovable idiot brothers were up to.

“Doing good, Hot Stuff?” Arlo murmured, and her head shot up as she felt colour and heat flood her cheeks, and if she hadn’t already been on her elbows she would have fallen to them, because _ what_?

She stared at him, searching his face as he stared back with the barest hint of a blush high on his cheeks.

He glanced away from her, almost looking shy, then back again and she would swear he looked smug. The gleam in his eyes and the quirk to his lips as he jerked his head towards Sonia and raised his eyebrows made her bite down on a curse as she pushed herself back up onto her hands and toes to keep time with the start of the next set.

“Come on Hannah. You can do this,” he said conversationally mid set as she paused to reset her hands. “You’re doing great. Isn’t she doing great, Sam?”

“Yeah. You’re doing really great kid,” Sam said, still sounding chirpy, damn her, and Hannah let herself gasp a laugh because no, no she wasn’t. Her arms and legs felt like jelly not only because of the exercise, but because of what Arlo had said. 

_ Because really, what did he even mean by calling me that_? she asked herself, trying to keep in time with her friends. After everything the other day, she’d never have thought he’d ever say those words around her again, let alone call her them here in the middle of Peach Plaza, surrounded by half the town!

She heard a soft eep from beyond Sam, and took a second to glance at the peak of her next “up” to see Emily pushing herself up to sit and shaking her hands out. She heard Polly shout out “sixty seven” and that was, that was wow. She hadn’t realised they’d got that far. But then the set was over and she dropped back to her knees and elbows and sucked in deep lungfuls of air, her head almost resting on the ground.

A large, warm hand landed between her shoulder blades and started rubbing slow strokes along her spine, and then a smaller hand rested on her shoulder and started to rub circles, and she almost whimpered at how nice it felt.

“You really are doing good Hannah, but you can slow down a little if you need to. You still have plenty of leeway for time, no need to push yourself to keep up with us. You’ve done really well to get this far.”

“Yeah kid. You’re doing us proud.”

She nodded her head, not sure if she was even able to answer them, and was thinking that maybe they were right when she heard a whoop go up from the crowd, and Ginger softly calling encouragements. And Peaches’ socks, she couldn’t let Ginger down, not if she'd managed to get here in the middle of the day to cheer for her.

She shook her head, then shot a quick smile at Sam as she shrugged her hand off, then another smile at Arlo, lifting her eyebrows and eyeing his arm between them. He frowned slightly as he pulled back, but she didn’t have the brain power to decipher the look he’d allowed on his face right now. She focused on Sonia’s voice as she shouted to get ready, then lifted herself up and dipped.

“That’s it Hannah. You’re doing good. Remember your elbows, there you go. Just six more, almost there…”

Hannah let Arlo’s soothing words wash over and encourage her throughout the next two rounds while she struggled to keep up, ignoring the small stab of jealousy that he didn’t sound even the slightest bit out of breath. Just what was wrong with the man that this wasn’t affecting him? She could hear Sam breathing heavily on her other side, so it clearly wasn’t a Civil Corps thing to chat like he was simply walking down the street after having done, she tried to think, having done however many push ups?

She lowered herself for the next one, trying to ignore the feeling of sweat dripping from her nose and down her back and the shaking in her arms, but found she couldn’t quite find the energy to go back up. She could faintly hear voices calling her name beyond the buzzing that had started in her ears. Voices cheering her on, shouting encouragement, and slightly closer was Arlo’s voice cutting through everything telling her it was ok, she was doing good, she was nearly there, just get back up and then one more and--

She heaved herself up, but then the whistle peeled again for the start of the break and she hadn’t made it. Her breath hitched as she let her knees hit the ground, then leant backwards to sit on her feet, panting and letting her head drop and just damn. She felt a prickly burn start at the corners of her eyes, and the hands were back on her shoulders, and Sam was telling her how incredible she’d done and pulling her head to rest on her stripey chest and rubbing along her back and well, at least she’d tried.

“So-rry Sam,” she gasped out, letting her eyes fall shut. “I, let, girls, down.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sam panted back, sounding only slightly less out of breath. “You did amazing, girl. Especially since you’ve only been doing push ups properly for what, three, four weeks? You just did, how many was that Polly?”

“One hundred and eight,” the girl called back, and whatever Sam had planned to say next was cut off by the whistle sounding again, three quick short blasts.

“O~kay then! Well done everyone! But now we are down to the final four, it’s time to shake things up a bit. Paulie, Arlo, Sam, and Oaks, you get a five minute break and then you need to come back here and line up together for me, ok? Django has some rainbow lemonade for everyone, so make sure you stay hydrated!”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, patting her gently, and she rolled her head so she could see Arlo out the corner of her eye, crouched next to her and looking almost as fresh as when they’d started, his eyes darting over her before he seemed to relax and his lips quirked up into the grin she loved to see on his face.

“You did good Hot Stuff,” he said quietly, but not quietly enough that Sam didn’t hear, judging by her sudden laugh and the way her chest bounced. Hannah made herself sit up, refusing to look at him and trying to pretend her burning cheeks were purely from the exercise she’d just done. 

“But come on, let’s get you over to the steps. Help me get her up, Sam?”

Hannah whimpered as she felt his hand move to her armpit, suddenly very much aware of how much she’d been sweating, and then Sam’s hands were wrapped around the top of her other arm and she was being dragged to her feet. She yelped and staggered, her legs feeling like over cooked noodles, and Arlo’s arm wrapped around her, holding her steady against his broad chest.

“Easy there kid, no need to fall for the Captain like that,” Sam laughed, and Hannah closed her eyes because really Sam? Really?

“Sam, enough. Unless you want me to tell her about when you were first learning how to--”

“Stopping now!”

She snorted, shaking her head, and moved forward with them towards the wall next to the steps. She leant on it gratefully when they got there, wondering if it would be worth the effort to lift herself up to sit on it, but then Arlo had unwrapped his arm and turned her around and lifted her up by her waist as if she were nothing to perch her on the edge and stinking jump dancers, was he not the least bit tired?

She stared at him, half in awe and half in jealousy as he stepped back and looked at her, in that Captain way he had of assessing a situation.

“I’m getting you a drink. Stay here, ok?”

“Hey Captain, wait for me!” Sam called as she went after him.

Hannah sighed as she rolled her wrists and ankles, idly watching everyone wander around by the table Django had set up, Arlo impassive as ever while Sam was looking smug about something as they talked with their heads close together. She was beat.

“You did good Hannah, you should be really proud of yourself.”

“Thanks Oaks, but it looks like you’re doing better, since you’re still in.”

She looked round at him where he was leaning against the wall next to her hip, chest bare of his bear skin and red hair looking strange without the covering. and stuck to his head with sweat.

“Ah, yeah, but I’m not sure how much longer I would’ve lasted if we hadn’t stopped for a break.”

“Don’t doubt yourself like that! You’re plenty strong you know,” she said, playfully swatting at his shoulder and laughing as he caught her hand and held it to his chest as he moved to stand in front of her.

“Eh, I'm really not but thank you for saying so. But anyway, I wanted to ask you, now you’re out you’ll be cheering for me, right? I’ve got no one here supporting me like everyone else does, since Papa Bear can’t come into town. I should have family in my corner, right little cub?”

She groaned as he started to wobble his lip and widened his eyes.

“You know, as much as I like being friends with you and Abu, that doesn’t mean I’ve let him adopt me,” she snipped, pulling her hand free and flicking his nose playfully. She bit down the smile as he yelped and covered his nose and laughed at her, jumping up on the wall beside her and bumping their shoulders together.

“But for real, will you cheer me on? It’s kinda lonely hearing everyone else get cheered.”

She hummed in thought, leaning her head on his shoulder as she looked up at him. He was smiling softly, hopefully at her, and she sighed because really, how was she meant to say no to that face?

“Well, I guess I can--”

“Cheer me on, right kiddo? You’re going to cheer on your bestest of best friends Sam?”

She yelped as a body crashed into her side, sending her falling into Oaks and bumping her nose against his neck as her hands waved for balance and landed on his chest. She pushed against him to straighten herself, only sparing half a thought to how strange it was to not feel fur and straps, before she turned to glare at Sam, who was standing next to her looking sheepish.

“Sam! Why would you…”

She trailed off as her eyes skittered over Sam’s shoulder to Arlo, standing a few feet back holding two bottles of rainbow lemonade with an unreadable expression on his face. He was staring at her. Just, staring. His eyes flitted to her hand still on Oaks chest and she pulled it back, dropping it to her lap. She shivered, because there was something in the way he was looking at her as his eyes met hers again that made her feel strange. It felt like he could see all of her, every thought and feeling and want she'd ever had. And it was both terrifying and exciting and she wasn’t sure what to make of it because he’d never looked at her like that before, so why, why…

“Hey, Hannah, are you ok? You shivered. Are you cold? Oh, right, you’re meant to stay warm after workouts, right? Where did you put your jacket?”

“I think it’s on the other side of the steps Oaks, why don’t you go grab it for her?”

She felt Oaks jump down from the wall besides her before he walked in front of her, breaking her view of Arlo, and when she saw him again he had a bland smile on his face and was walking forward, holding out a bottle to her and she had to blink because what had just happened?

She reached out to take it, searching his face, but she couldn’t get a read on him, even less than she had a moment ago, and she didn’t understand why he was acting so strange.

“Oh, thanks Oaks. Hey, you better go get a drink before the next round starts, right? Don’t want you collapsing.”

"Ah, you’re right. Back in a moment.”

A comforting weight settled around her shoulders, startling her enough to turn and meet Sam’s gaze, which was warm and gentle and open, with a hint of concern and warning. Hannah could tell there was something she wanted to say but wasn’t going to right now. She looked from Sam, whose face was like an open book, to Arlo, whose face was a perfectly bland mask with only a small spark of, of _ something _in his eyes.

She turned away from him, not wanting to get lost again, and took a long drink. She heard Sam say something, light and jokey and then Arlo’s gruff answer, but she kept her eyes on the crowd of people by Django’s stand who were starting to wander back. 

She noticed Emily walking with Oaks and she was amused to see how he was standing taller, with his chest slightly puffed out, and how Emily was failing to not look at him or stumble over her words. She’d have to remember to tease him later for that. She knew they were old friends, having played together as children after Abu brought him to Portia, but he’d never mentioned anything like this between them over the years.

Sonia had gotten back to her place on the edge of the fountain, and was holding up her whistle and smiling.

“Ok! Are we all ready for the final round to start?”

Hannah turned to wish Sam and Arlo luck, but Arlo had already turned and walked away and something in her chest twinged. Sam’s hand landed on her shoulder as she slid off the wall and walked to stand in front of Sonia with Arlo, Oaks, and Paulie, all four stretching out their arms. 

“I hope you’re all feeling rested after that first part, Polly told me you all got up to one hundred and ten push ups in sixteen minutes, which is like, incredible! But we’re going to switch it up now. You have to keep in time with the whistle, which I’ll blow every three seconds, and whoever lasts the longest wins. So let’s get this started already.”

Hannah took another sip of her drink as the final four lined themselves up opposite each other and lowered themselves to the ground. Paulie was next to the fountain in line with the wall’s other end block, and Sam was next to him, closer to the steps. Oaks was opposite Paulie next to the fountain, and he smiled at her over his shoulder with that stupidly adorable dimple he had, though she was amused again to see how his eyes drifted to Emily standing on the steps next to where she sat. Then right in front of her was Arlo, who was also looking over his shoulder at her, and she thought she saw a hint of hurt and confusion and pain before he gave her a quick nod, and went back to waiting for Sonia’s first whistle.

Sonia started to blow, the short sharp blasts accompanied by the cheers of everyone around her, and she had a perfect view of the way all four people rose and dropped in unison. 

She had the thought as she shouted encouragement to him, of how much pain Oaks would be in tomorrow, doing push ups in the middle of the day with nothing on. She’d have to beg Emily for some soothing cream for him, if her friend didn’t offer the man any herself first she thought, hearing how Emily was also cheering for him now that she wasn’t competing.

Sam had her head down, entirely focused on keeping the rhythm going and not even trying to talk like she had earlier, but she perked up slightly when Hannah whistled and cheered. She’d taken her hat off, and had borrowed a hair tie from someone to gather as much hair as she could to stick up like the top of a cactus fruit, and Hannah could see how her top was starting to stick to her back from where she was sweating.

Paulie looked fine, but then she wasn’t as close to him as she was others in town to notice any changes. She’d had less reason to talk to him as much as other people so far, though the times she had he’d been kind and respectful. So she didn’t feel the need to encourage him, given how many others already were, like all the children. 

Which just left Arlo, and she looked at him, mouth open to start calling his name, but felt her breath catch when she saw his back and arms.

It was stupid, she thought as she watched. He was wearing a t-shirt, and was more covered than Oaks, so why was she suddenly having trouble looking away from him? The way the material stretched and bunched as the muscles underneath moved, and the way she could see his arms flex as he steadily went up and down, it was incredibly distracting. 

And she started to wonder, what would it be like to touch them? To run her hands over his back as he did push ups, or any other exercise. To feel those muscles moving and working. To hold on to his shoulders as he lifted her like he’d done earlier to set her on the wall, but actually know it was about to happen and have a chance to really appreciate it. 

Maybe, maybe to run her hands over him, feel his body moving and working, without clothes in the way…?

She blinked, shaking her head, because sneaking tunnel worms, Arlo was her friend, and she shouldn’t think things like that about friends! She made herself look at his face, trying to work out what to say to cheer him on, but froze. Because he was watching her again from the corner of his eye. His head was tilted just so and while he was still facing Sam and keeping up with the whistle she could tell, she just _ knew _that his entire focus was on her.

But then she jumped as a loud cheer went up, and movement beyond Arlo was Oaks sitting back, panting and wiping his forehead as he laughed, and she winced, because she’d got so lost and hadn’t cheered him as much as she’d promised.

“One hundred and thirty seven,” Dolly called out from next to Polly, and Hannah whooped with everyone else, lifting her bottle up in a salute. He laughed again, and climbed to his feet before stumbling towards her, and she patted his head when he collapsed over the wall at her side.

“You did good brother bear, I can’t wait to tell Abu about it.”

“Shhhh, sleeping now,” he said, slumping further forward so he was lying with his arms spread out over the grass. She let her hand rest on his shoulder, trying to bite down on the grin as Emily moved behind her to climb onto the wall and move to Oaks’ other side. She looked forward again, eyes skimming over Arlo who didn’t seem to be watching her anymore. Eyes focused on a patch of ground in front of him, with his jaw clenched, and a new tension in his back that hadn’t been there at all earlier. She was starting to get really, really confused about what was going on with him today.

Sam was starting to struggle, even with the encouragement being shouted her way. Hannah joined in the yelling, letting out whoops and cheers that brought a slight smile to her friend’s lips, but she knew Sam wouldn’t last much longer, not compared to Paulie and Arlo who were still going strong.

Not long after, one of Sam’s arms gave way on her, and she fell sideways onto her elbow, breathing heavily and letting her head drop to the ground. The cheers for her were almost deafening as she rolled over away from Paulie to lay on her back, letting her arms flop out. 

“One hundred and fifty six,” Dolly called out again as Polly kept her eyes on Paulie and Arlo, marking each push up on her small notepad. Hannah cheered with everyone else one last time, before making a conscious effort to stop avoiding Arlo. He was her friend, no matter what she’d thought about him earlier and how flustered he was making her, and he deserved her support.

She opened her mouth to call his name as she looked towards him, but he’d turned his head and was looking at her from the side again and the words died in her throat. There was an intensity in the way he was watching her. Like something inside him was burning and was fighting to come out, and it was focused on her. His eyes stayed locked on her, even as everyone around them cheered and yelled and he just kept doing push ups in time with the whistle. And she found she couldn’t make herself speak, or look away. Because there was just something about him pulling her in.

She ran her tongue over dry lips, and his eyes flickered from hers for a second before he licked his own, and she felt her heart skip because what did that mean? Did it mean anything at all, or was it just coincidence? She was thinking about trying again, seeing if he’d lick his lips again if she did, when her thoughts were interrupted by a loud cheer. 

She faintly registered people shouting that Paulie was down, and Arlo had won. She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding as people surged forward, walking up to the final two and offering congratulations, and someone walked between them and Hannah found she could breathe again, without him watching her like that. 

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself, fingers flexing around the glass bottle she still held. Maybe, maybe there was something to be found, if she started to look? Maybe the way he looked at her meant something? Meant what she suddenly, desperately wanted it to mean? 

She felt someone moving next to her and she gave herself a shake, and opened her eyes expecting to find Sam leaning over her, or Oaks sitting himself up. But it was Arlo standing in front of her, watching her with his head slightly tilted, looking warm and slightly worn out as he breathed heavily, and by Peach there was something about the sound of him looking and breathing like that that made her insides feel warm.

Shifting on the wall to try and get rid of the squirmy feeling in her lower half just seemed to make his eyes sharpen; to draw his attention more firmly to her as he took a step closer. She looked around, desperate for some sort of distraction, some way to put off whatever this was for a little bit longer. Oaks and Emily were back over by Django, laughing with him and holding more lemonade. And Sam, Sam was sitting on the edge of the fountain, looking back at her with a smirk, and gave her a cheeky wink before deliberately turning and starting a conversation with Mei.

“Hannah,” he started, and she felt a shiver run up her spine at hearing him say her name like that. All husky and breathless, slightly lower than normal and quiet, so quiet so it wouldn’t carry to any of the people around them. She wanted to talk, to ask him what was wrong, what had been wrong for most of the competition, but her mouth was dry and with him right there, she wasn’t sure how to fix that.

“I didn’t hear you cheering for me. I have to admit, that kind of hurts a bit.”

Her eyes dropped and she found them drawn to the faint pattern on his t-shirt. She couldn’t look at his face. She didn’t want to see if he was disappointed in her, or playing, or anything really, because she was sure if she looked up and saw his red cheeks, his bright eyes and the slight sheen of sweat again, she might never speak a coherent sentence the rest of the year. 

So instead she kept her eyes on his chest. His wide, firm chest that his t-shirt was clinging to in places, and which was rising and falling in time with his puffs of breath. Puffs of breath she now felt ruffling her hair because he’d taken yet another step towards her to stand between her legs where she sat on the wall. Her mostly bare legs, she realised, since she was wearing her rather short workout shorts that stopped mid thigh.

“Hannah? Look at me?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head because she couldn’t, but damn, with him this close it didn’t seem to help any because she could smell him. That unique blend of smells that made up Arlo, that had never seemed important before when she’d sparred with him, or sat with him, held him as his gave her a lift around town on Spacer, or ended up draped over him for whatever reason. But right now, it was making her feel like jump dancers had moved into her stomach and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to leave, or take that final half step closer and wrap her in his arms.

“Hannah? Will you please look at me?”

He was so quiet, she wasn’t sure she’d even heard him, but the brush of his fingers against the side of her knee was apparently all she’d needed, because her eyes fluttered open without her thinking about it to find him looming over her. His other hand was in his tousled hair, making it rumpled and messy and slicked back in the wake of his fingers, giving her the sudden unexpected urge to see what she could make it look like with her own hands. She tried to blink away the thought and focus on his face, finding him looking down at her with that damned unreadable expression again, just the faintest hint of something in his eyes as he looked at her.

Everything else around her faded out. There was just him. Just him standing there, searching her face for who knows what. But he seemed to find it, because his mask cracked, just a bit, as his lips twitched at one corner and he let out a snort of amusement as he pulled his fingers back from her knee, finishing his hair sweep and dropping that hand to his hip.

“Make sure you stay warm, and drink lots of fluids, all right? No alcohol tonight.”

He stood there, staring at her until she realised he wanted a response. So she nodded, still not sure of her voice.

“Good,” he murmured, smirk growing slightly. “In that case, stay out of trouble, ok?” 

He leant forward slowly, arm reaching out towards her and she stared straight ahead, not quite knowing what to expect, until she felt his breath puff against her ear. 

“I’ll see you later, Hot Stuff.”

She gasped as he stepped back, jacket in hand and a full smirk on his lips. Her mouth dropped open and she tried to form words, any words as she felt heat flood her face, and he had that same proud, smug look as when he’d called her that the first time today and just _ what _?

He reached out to tap the bottom of her chin, and she snapped her mouth shut. And kept it shut as he whistled happily and threw his jacket over his shoulder, and turned to walk away towards the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!  
So you know how at the start of this fic we mentioned Extras? Well, those start as of tomorrow! So keep an eye out for the new fic named "Finding You - Extras", which will contain scenes that fit in the universe, but don't necessarily fit in with the main story line. So you don't HAVE to read them, but... why would you not? ^_~  
So you can subscribe to the Finding You series to make sure you get alerts for when they get posted, and we'll also be adding links to chapters to show where in the timeline they fit.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit: Nov 22nd  
First Extra chapter is here! **[Arlo's POV of the competition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/51284932)**


	8. Tied Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injured and bored, Arlo decides to test some boundaries.

June 10th, Monday

Arlo sat on a bucket in the middle of Hannah’s bedroom, watching her move methodically along the new wall, brush stroking long swipes up and down. She’d moved all the furniture out of the room while she’d upgraded the last of her incredibly holey external wooden walls with new hardwood planks as she slowly rebuilt her house, and had now placed newspapers on the floor all the way around the edges. Which had clearly been a good decision, considering the way the paint dripped from her brush and onto the paper as she moved between the paint pot and the wall.

He’d been sitting there calmly for at least five minutes now, hoping at first that she would turn around, grin and admit that she and Sam were just joking, she was going to release him now, and ha-ha look at his face, he actually thought they were serious? But the brush was still going up and down, up and down in long, slow strokes, and he was beginning to think that maybe this wasn’t a joke at all.

He shifted slightly on the bucket. “So… so you really just want me to sit here?”

“Yup,” she replied firmly, lips popping around the P.

“You… you want me to sit here and watch paint dry?”

“Yup.”

Arlo lowered his head, staring incredulously at her back as she kept painting. “Can I at least help?”

“Yeah, sure. You can sit there and be pretty for me,” she said without looking at him, dipping her brush back into the paint pot next to her, scowling at a patch of wall. “And tell me if I’ve missed spots,” she added, pulling the brush back out.

_ Sigh… _

His gaze slipped down to the rope tied around her waist; the damn rope that cinched in her top to show off the curve there, before it dropped down past those stupidly short shorts she always wore nowadays to the floor before snaking its way over to him, where it angled up again to wrap around his wrists, locking them together snugly. If Hannah had been the one to tie him up, maybe he would’ve been able to wriggle his way out of his bonds, but Sam knew her knots—he almost regretted having taught her his best tricks now—and so there was no point in even trying. Not that he hadn’t tried already. Restless as he was, he’d grown desperate enough to try breaking loose within the first minute after he’d been pushed down onto the bucket. Needless to say, it had been a fruitless endeavour.

“If you have another brush,” he tried, “we could get this over with in half the time.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I happen to think painting is kinda therapeutic.”

Arlo rolled his eyes. He highly doubted she loved painting that wall as much as she made it seem like, but fine. She could have the paint to herself, if only he had _ something _to distract himself with. He was starting to think she wasn’t planning on allowing him even that, though.

“So I’m supposed to just sit here and twiddle my thumbs, then?”

“If you can,” she teased.

He sighed and raised his hands in front of his chest, palms pressed against each other. “Hannah,” he said, emphasising her name with a slow flick of his wrists in her direction. “This was a funny little joke, and I’m sure we’ll laugh about it for years and years, but I have a patrol in the wasteland scheduled for today, and—”

“No!” she said, spinning around to give him a scowl, little droplets of paint splattering across the room. “You’re not going anywhere. This is for your own good. If Sam says you can’t work, you can’t work. Nothing funny about that.”

“It’s a twisted ankle,” he said, scowling back. “Not a broken spine.”

She scoffed, and despite her harsh tone, he could see a gleam of amusement in her eyes. “Oh, it _ would _have to be something like that to keep you from work, wouldn’t it?”

He huffed in exasperation, glaring at her as she turned back around again to continue stroking her damn brush across the surface of the wall. He needed some way to convince her… Some way to make her give in and untie him… He eyed the knot by her lower back that tied the rope together around her waist. 

The idea came to him like the first breeze of Autumn, and as it took root and started to grow, he felt a slow smirk tug at his lips. Because what was this if not the perfect moment to try to repeat what he’d accomplished during the push up competition? To find out if her reactions then had just been a fluke, or if he could make her that deliciously flustered again?

He tilted his head to the side, considering her as she moved her arm back and forth. His mind kicked into a new gear, working on the puzzle of what to say and do to make her react like last time. He could theoretically just throw ‘Hot Stuff’s at her, but where was the fun in that? No. He could use a challenge. He wanted to see if he could get a reaction from her in other ways too, not just by using her nickname.

So what did he know? He knew that, for some reason, him talking quietly seemed to rile her up. Or, in Sam’s words, him using his “husky man voice”. But what else did she like? He thought back to the competition, remembering how she’d looked at him when it had just been him, Sam, Oaks, and Paulie left. How her eyes had trailed from his back, down his arms as he rose and sank in time with the whistles; how she’d looked at him like it was her time of the month and he was a scrumptious dessert; how she’d run her tongue along her bottom lip, almost as if she could taste him there. And then, when he’d leant in towards her to reach his jacket, and let out a puff of breath against her cheek… That had basically seemed to break her. Had made her jaw drop to the ground and her mouth struggle to form words. 

He swallowed, because remembering all those things… Well, it_ did _ things to him, things that weren’t suitable right now, because he was supposed to make _ her _feel them, not the other way around.

But ok. She liked his low voice, she seemed to like seeing him move, and she definitely liked feeling his breath against her skin. Well, that he could do. That he could most certainly do.

Smoothing out his face, he pushed himself off the bucket—_ and oh damn, that hurt, but it’s fine, it’s just a sprain _—and took a first, somewhat wobbly step towards Hannah.

“I heard that,” she said without turning around. “Sit your butt back down, Mister.”

He winced at a particular bad step, but then he had reached her, and stopped right behind her back. She jumped a little when his breath fanned out over her head.

“This is a waste of resources, you know,” he said in a low voice, moving his fingertips slowly up along her back until he reached her neck, where he started gathering her hair between his bound hands. She shivered slightly, but this was nothing new; they touched like this all the time. “If you untied me, we would have two more hands to work with.”

The hand holding the brush stopped moving, and he could hear a tiny, soft exhalation before it started again. He wished he could see her face, but he also needed to have her facing the wall for this to work.

“I could reach the highest parts,” he murmured as he struggled a little to run his fingers through her hair. “And I’d be able to go on and on without getting tired…”

She let out another soft gasp that made his heart skip before picking up its pace, and he had to swallow down the urge to step even closer to her; to pull her back against his chest.

“How does that sound,” he asked in an unexpectedly husky voice, “Hot Stuff?”

He could feel it in his fingertips when she clenched her jaw, the muscles in her neck tensing, and when he tilted his head to the left, he could see the edges of a blush creeping along her neck.

“G-go back to the bucket, Arlo,” she ordered. He bit down a smile at how flustered she sounded.

“You know how restless I get,” he said, moving his hands slowly down along her back again until he reached the rope, “when I have nothing to do with my hands.”

While his fingers slowly started working on the knot, he leant in towards her left ear and let out a puff of breath that made her shiver once again. “I get that you want to finish this wall by yourself, but maybe you can find… another use for me?”

Her hand stopped painting again, and this time, she pulled it back to hang at her side, paint dripping onto the newspapers. To his surprise, she wasn’t telling him off, or trying to push him away, or even saying _ anything_, but what did that mean? Good glorycroc, he wanted so badly to see her face…

“I don’t mind being pushed around a bit,” he said, and just as Hannah drew in a deep breath, his fingers managed to loosen the knot enough to pull it open, and the rope fell from her waist to the floor.

But before he could even consider taking a step back, she spun around and grabbed hold of the rope that hung from his wrists, tugging his hands closer. Finally facing her straight on, his eyes were eager to search her face, and he wasn’t disappointed by what he found there. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her face and neck a blaring red, and she was panting softly as she stared up at him in confusion. Something clenched tightly within him as he felt a strong urge to have her, just _ have _ her; he didn’t know how or when or why or what but he knew he _ needed _it. And maybe she saw it on his face, his face that he usually kept so calm and collected, because she drew in another trembling breath as she looked up at him.

“You untied me,” she said, and sweet peaches, her voice was a breathless piece of art.

“I did, didn’t I, Hot Stuff?”

Maybe it was greedy to throw another Hot Stuff in there, but he just loved seeing her react to it. She looked away for a second, her eyelids fluttering as she bit down on her bottom lip.

“If I untie you too, can you promise to sit still and not get into any trouble?”

“I can promise no such things,” he said, his brain basically going on autopilot now as he half wished, half dreaded that she would accept the offers he’d made.

She stared at him, and he looked back as calmly as he could, waiting for her to decide where to go from there. After a moment, she lowered her gaze to his hands, which hung in the air between them. He flexed his fingers almost subconsciously, and it drew another quiet gasp from her.

“What I _ can _promise,” he said quietly, “is that I’ll do whatever you ask… As long as it isn’t to sit still on a bucket.”

Her gaze darted up to his face again, and he almost winced because shit, that was a little too on the nose, wasn’t it? And he wasn’t sure what he was even saying anymore, because Hannah was his friend, and you weren’t supposed to say things like that to your friends, but his brain seemed to think it was a good idea, a great idea actually, and his body was inclined to agree, and whatever this led to, however this ended, at least he’d thrown himself out there, so even if they stopped here and never talked about this again, then—

Hannah moved her hands up to the rope around his wrists, slowly letting her fingers run along its length as she bit into her bottom lip. She paused when she reached the spot between his wrists, where she hooked her index finger around the rope and tugged his hands slightly closer, cheeks growing even darker. He stared down at her, watching her face closely. She’d shown a surprising amount of curiosity in the knots Sam had tied him up with, asking about things like their sturdiness and how tight one should make them, and getting Sam to demonstrate with another piece of rope around a chair leg several times as she watched closely, but what was she doing now? Checking for herself how well they held?

Before he could figure it out, Hannah swallowed and started looking for a way to loosen the knot, and Arlo’s breath hitched in his throat. Was—was she taking him up on his offer? He looked at her face, her deeply concentrated and flustered face, and felt a blush start on his own cheeks.

“Hannah,” he breathed, “I—”

He distantly registered the sound of the front door opening, and broke off, turning his head just in time to see Sam enter the room.

“Hey Arlo, guess what…” She came to a halt, eyes darting between him and Hannah, who immediately released both him and the rope and took a step back, and Arlo reached for her when he saw what was about to happen, but wasn’t fast enough to stop her from backing right into the wall and the still-wet paint she’d brushed on. She realised it a second later, and launched herself off the wall again, straight into Arlo, who was still tied up and completely unable to catch her. He took the force of her unexpected shove with a grunt, trying to regain his balance but flinching when he shifted his weight onto the bad ankle, and so he crumpled to the floor with Hannah stumbling over her legs and falling on top of him.

He winced, peering up at her as she blinked her wide eyes at him. Well, ok. This wasn’t quite what he’d imagined.

Above them, Sam was laughing hard, and she kept laughing even as Hannah scrambled off him and stood, holding out her hand to help him up before seemingly realising that he was still tied up and unable to grab it. Cheeks flushing, she knelt down beside him and started working on untying the knot. Arlo was almost grateful he had Sam to glare at, because he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to look at Hannah right then.

Sam was wiping her eyes free from tears, chuckling softly. “I, I came to say that Hannah won’t have to babysit you anymore, because someone actually needs you, even though you’re practically worthless right now.”

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered. “So who is it?”

“Gale wants you to brief him on what went down in the marsh ruins yesterday. Said he needed a written report, too.”

The rope fell away from his hands, and Hannah straightened again as he sat up, rubbing his wrists. He ignored the strange tightness in his chest when she stood and left him on the floor.

“Did he need me right now?”

“Well, I told him I’d have to carry you all the way to his office, so… within the hour?”

He sighed. “You don’t have to carry me, but maybe give me some support on the way over,” he said, looking at his ankle. “It’s… a bit worse than I thought.”

“‘Course, Captain. Wouldn’t want you to be permanently worthless.”

Sam grabbed hold of his hands and helped him get up, wrapping an arm around his back to support him. He glanced in Hannah’s direction, but she was turned away, closely studying the part of the wall she’d backed into. He opened his mouth to say goodbye, or good luck, or _ something _, but nothing came out. Shit, he’d really screwed things up now, hadn’t he?

“Bye Hannah, thanks for babysitting the Captain for me,” Sam called as she turned them around to start towards the front door.

“Bye,” Hannah said quietly, and Arlo just glimpsed her red face as she tucked a curtain of hair behind her ear before Sam had pulled him with her out of the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
[Sneaking Around](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/51427825)  
**


	9. Stable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah is setting up her new stable ready for her horses to arrive, when Arlo shows up to help, and does slightly more than she was expecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Sneaking Around](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/51427825)** happens earlier in the day

June 26th, Wednesday

Hannah looked up when she heard the knock on wood behind her, and smiled at Arlo standing in the open space.

“Great! You made it! I’m so glad you could come help me! I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here, and I want to make sure I set all of this up right so they’ll be happy and there are so many more things to think about than I thought and--”

She cut herself off as he laughed, the low, rumbling chuckle she adored because she knew he was laughing with her, rather than at her.

“It’s fine. I’m free the whole afternoon now, so I’m happy to help. What have you done already?”

She sighed as she leant on the rake she’d been using, and swept her hand out to indicate the empty stable.

“Beside panic? I hung up all their tack and stuff in one of the spare stalls, stuffed some hay in those net bags so they can be soaked in the morning. Oh, and I made a wheelbarrow, and worked out how the fertiliser tank works. Don’t look at me like that, that was related to setting up the stable.”

She felt herself start to blush at the soft, fond look he was giving her as he shook his head. So different to how he’d been looking at her recently, but it was giving her that same feeling in her stomach somehow. 

“It is indeed. But since your horses are showing up tomorrow, we should probably finish setting up their home. What do you need me to do?”

She turned and looked back at the stable, trying to think.

“Well, right now I’m trying to get this straw spread over those rubber mat things McDonald told me to make, so if you don’t mind helping me with that?”

“Sure thing Hot Stuff,” he said gently as he smiled again and walked over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. She knew she was blushing bright red, not only because she could feel it but by the way his smile changed slightly, looking almost proud for an instant, before smoothing out again into a frown. His other hand went to her forehead, the backs of his cool fingers pressing against her as he studied her face.

“You’re warm. When did you last take a break?”

“What? I, errrr...”

“Hannah, it’s the middle of a very warm day in Summer. Please tell me you’ve been taking breaks and remembering to drink?”

She bit her lip and looked away from him, knowing he’d be able to spot any lie she tried to tell, and bracing herself for whatever unsettling thing he was sure to say next.

“For the love of… Fine. This can all wait. You are taking a break with me right now.”

“But my horses--” she started, flustered precisely because he hadn’t said or done anything like she’d expected.

“Your horses will need you to not be sick so you can look after them. Ten minutes inside, that’s all I’m asking for. Please?”

She met his eyes--his kind, concerned, beautiful blue eyes--and sighed in defeat. She let him take the rake from her, lean it against the wall, then grab her hand and tug her out of the stable and across the yard to her home. She didn’t fight him as he led her to her kitchen table and pressed her into a chair, and then fussed around her kitchen like he belonged there, pouring them both drinks before sitting opposite her and sliding hers across the table.

“So, tell me about your horses. Have you picked names yet?”

She took a big gulp of her orange juice, making herself calm down, before nodding and smiling.

“Yes, Adrien and Marinette.” She stopped as he  _ looked  _ at her, and felt a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Look, I really liked their story as a child, ok? And the characters are so sweet, despite how blind they can be.”

He nodded, his glass not quite hiding his smile. “I’m not sure I remember it. Tell me?” 

She started telling him about them, and the ridiculous love square they got themselves into while both pretending to be someone else. And as she was explaining things to him, she couldn’t help but notice the way he watched her. He had his cheek resting on his hand, and was smiling at her, his eyes soft and warm and entirely focused on her as he hummed and nodded in the right places, and waved his hand at her to go on when she paused.

She was in the middle of explaining one of the key plot points that got revealed half way through the series when she found herself rubbing her eyes and yawning. When she dropped her hands and went to start talking again though, he was frowning at her.

“Hannah, what time did you say you started working this morning?”

She stilled, staring at him as she tried to think what to say. Because she’d already as good as admitted to not taking breaks today, so if she now told him that she’d been working since she woke up at six, chances were he wouldn’t exactly be happy with her. Something in her face must have given her away, she thought as she watched the furrows between his eyes deepen and his jaw set.

“Right. You’re having a nap. No arguing,” he held up a finger as she started to protest. “I’ll go finish setting up the stable, but you are going to rest before you collapse.”

She nodded, knowing he was right, and leant her hands on the table as she pushed herself up, then yelped as the room spun. She blinked and he was next to her, his arm around her waist and his other hand gripping her elbow. He muttered curses and pulled her closer, hand going to her forehead again.

“I’m guessing you haven’t eaten either, have you? Sweet fuzzy llamas, what am I meant to do with you?”

He shifted his arms and suddenly she was being carried, and she grabbed onto his shoulders as he walked her through her house, settling her carefully on her couch. He moved a few cushions then made her lean back, sighing as he looked her over.

“Stay here,” he said sternly, then walked back to the kitchen. She heard him moving around, opening cupboards and then the fridge, and her oven turning on. She swung her feet off the sofa and grabbed the armrest, intending to go and help him, since it  _ was  _ her house after all.

“Stay means stay Hannah!” he called, and she stared at the doorway because it sounded like he was still on the other side of the room, so how had he even known?

“If I come over and you aren’t sitting down with your feet up,” he drawled, and she huffed as she leant back, but kept her feet on the floor. He was probably right, not that she would tell him she mused, watching the colours dance on her wall from the crystal necklaces she’d hung in her window. And him fussing over her like this was... nice. Vaguely annoying, but nice. It was almost the same as when he came round during her “off” days, but it was also different. It felt, it felt  _ right _ , to have him here in her home, looking after her, moving around like he belonged and already knowing where everything was.

He walked out of the kitchen, smirking at her as he moved her coffee table closer to where she was and knocking her legs, and pulled out a spoon from his back pocket to put down. She picked it up, confused, as he went back into the kitchen, and then came back out carrying a bowl and another glass of juice. The glass he put on the table within reach, but the bowl he held out to her, eyes sparkling.

“I  _ thought  _ you had good taste in food, but then this was the only thing in your fridge. I’m disappointed in you.”

She stared at the steamed potato fruit, not quite believing it. He hated the stuff, wouldn’t touch it if he could help it, said the smell made him gag. She looked up at him, and he was smiling at her in that soft, amused way, and raised an eyebrow when he offered the bowl again. She took it from him and he huffed a laugh, sitting next to her and stretching his legs out and laying his arm along the back cushions, but he seemed to be keeping his distance for some reason. She kept staring until he tapped the back of her hand holding the spoon.

“Eat already, Hot Stuff. Sooner you eat, the sooner you sleep, the sooner we finish your stable. And then I’m taking you to get ingredients, and then to the Round Table so you can eat actual food, not just mush.”

Her hand moved automatically when he tapped it again, and she started to eat as Arlo started to talk.

He chatted about his patrol that morning, how he’d caught Toby and Jack trying to get into the wasteland  _ again _ , and how he and Remy had decided to take the boys in, just inside the doorway so maybe they’d stop trying to sneak. And how the boys had loved it, until a slurpee started to chase them.

And it was nice, to sit and listen to him talk about his day. To watch him as he told the story, waving his hands around to emphasise things, then leaning forward to draw outlines on the table. His happy face, completely relaxed with his dimples showing. It felt right, in that same way as before. And she found herself thinking that she could get used to this. Eating with him. Sitting with him. She could easily get used to this happening all the time.

She went to eat more, but found her bowl empty. She frowned at it, then sighed. She grabbed the armrest of the chair and pulled herself up, and gasped as the room spun again and her breath caught in her throat.

Distantly she heard Arlo swear. Then she was falling, no, being pulled backwards by her hips, and she landed on something warm and solid and tilted backwards. She tried to sit up straight so she could breathe, feeling incredibly out of breath and dizzy, but something clamped around her shoulders from behind and held her still.

“Stop fighting me,” he ordered, and she did, allowing him to shift them around so he was leaning back into the corner, his legs stretched out along the couch with her almost laying on her side on top of him, with her legs thrown over his and off the front of the couch. She turned to look at him as he took the empty bowl from her, confused and still trying to breathe normally again, but he wrapped his free arm around her waist and tugged her back against his chest and she froze, because what? She was used to leaning on him and him hugging her, but this, this was new.

Her thoughts were cut off when he put the bowl on the table, and he started to grumble playfully into the top of her head.

“One day, one day you will learn to follow orders that are given for your own good.”

She wanted to argue, to remind him of what he’d been like when he’d twisted his ankle, but then his fingers started to stroke along her upper arm and draw patterns, and he hummed against her head, and she found she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to do anything that would possibly make him stop, even if it meant letting him think he’d won this one.

She leant against him, sliding her arm around his back when she couldn’t make it comfortable, and almost regretting it when he stopped stroking, only to start again when she finished settling against him. His other hand, the one wrapped around her back, dropped to her hip and started to draw lazy, loopy patterns there as well, and she sighed as her head settled lower.

“Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in half an hour or so, I promise.”

“I thought you were going to work in the stable while I napped?” she asked, fighting back the yawn. He huffed at her, and she felt it move her hair more than heard it.

“And if I believed for even half a moment that you’d stay here and not go do the washing up, or tidy, or anything else at all, I would.”

She huffed back at him, and wanted to tilt her head up to look at him but there was pressure on the top of her head that stopped her. He must be leaning against her, she thought, and grumbled as she settled back down. She could hear his heartbeats like this, and it was nice. Steady and relaxing, if a little fast. She frowned as she considered that, wondering why it would be fast when he hadn’t done anything but listen to her, heat up food, and watch her eat since he’d got here. But then he moved his hand from her arm to the back of her neck, pulling Zack’s pen out of her hair and putting it carefully on the table before he started to stroke there and she decided it didn’t matter.

Because this was, this was nice. In the same way as him knowing where things in her house were was nice. And it was fine, because this was what friends did, right? Friends sat with each other and listened to them talk, and made them food, and helped them relax.

But when she tried to imagine doing this with Sam, or Nora, or Oaks, she found she couldn’t. Nor could she imagine doing this with any of her friends back in Barnarock, aside from Zack, who was different and didn’t count for things like this anyway. It didn’t feel right to think about sitting like this with any of them. 

Only Arlo. 

Only Arlo, who was now humming happily against her head and sending shivers down her back. 

Only Arlo, who seemed to possibly like her as more than a friend, when she thought back on everything he’d done and said since he started calling her Hot Stuff.

Only Arlo, who had said he’d do whatever she wanted him to. Who had said all sorts of things that had stayed in her brain, playing on repeat for days afterwards. 

Only Arlo, who had seemed to maybe be thinking along the same lines she now was?

Maybe, she thought, as she closed her eyes and let her fingers curl against his chest. Maybe she should try reaching out to him, like he seemed to have to her. Because the thought of this becoming normal, was very,  _ very  _ appealing. 


	10. Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Arlo is all stiff because of Hannah, she offers a hand to make things better

June 27th, Thursday

“Are you sure you don’t need to go see Phyllis about your shoulder? That’s the third time you’ve rolled it since you walked in.”

Arlo grimaced as he dug his fingers into the muscle along the back of his right shoulder as he swung his arm around, feeling the knots move, but not going away.

“I’m fine,” he bit out, wincing as the pulled muscles sent another pulse of pain across his back.

Nora hummed, sounding unconvinced as she sipped at her apple juice and pushed a plate of crispy pancakes across the table to him.

“What happened? I thought you had yesterday afternoon off, and you can't have had time to get in that many fights already this morning.”

“I did,” he started slowly, trying to think of how to word what had happened yesterday without giving Nora the opportunity to start teasing. “I was helping Hannah with some things yesterday,” he went on before sighing in defeat at the immediate twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh? What sort of things?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him, before they fell again and drew together. “Wait. If you got hurt yesterday, and you’re still hurting now, you really  _ should  _ go to the clinic.”

“I didn’t hurt last night, and when I stopped by this morning Xu was out and Phyllis was talking to someone. I’m  _ fine _ ,” he insisted when Nora started to frown harder, and her eyes darted over his shoulder to the door. “I’m only hurting because I overworked it this morning getting a commission for Wang. It’s really not worth bothering them about and I’m sure I’ll be fine if you let me have one of those bath melts you keep raving about-” he started, trying to think of how to convince Nora, but stopped when a hand landed lightly on the outside of his shoulder.

He turned his head and came face to chest with Hannah, and he quickly shifted away and looked up at her even as he felt his cheeks start to heat. She was frowning at him, lips pinched together, eyes scanning his face with more attention than usual.

“I  _ knew  _ you got hurt yesterday when I slipped! You should have said something you fluff brained llama. Here, where’s it hurt most?”

He opened his mouth to object, to try and convince her he really was fine, but then she slid her hand up and her thumb stroked down and towards his neck and he groaned as she found the worst knot almost immediately.

“Oh wow, that bad huh? Something like that won’t go away by itself, not for a while at any rate. I can fix it for you now if you want? Since I’m the reason you’re hurt in the first place I mean?”

“Yes, he does want,” Nora cut in before he could consider it himself, and he met her subtle smirk with a glare. He should argue, remind them that he was the Captain with a reputation to uphold, But then, the restaurant was almost empty right now, and would remain so until the lunch rush started. Nora wouldn’t hold it against him, nor would Ginger, standing just behind Hannah. He only had to hope he didn’t give Sonia anything to gossip about and it’d be fine.

“Right,” Hannah said, voice determined as she let go of him. “Ginger, take my bag, the new designs are in my notebook if you want to start looking at them. And your lunch is on me today! Actually, Sonia! Put whatever Ginger gets on my tab, don’t let her pay for it!”

He heard Ginger laugh quietly under Sonia’s acknowledgement as Hannah’s thumb settled on his back again and rubbed in a circle, and he bit his lip to stop a hiss of pain from slipping out.

“That’s ok Hannah, take your time. I’ll wait for you at the counter.”

“Get yourself a drink at least. Now then,” she said as she turned back to him, shifting both her hands flat on his back on either side of his neck. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”

He grit his teeth against a grunt of pain when her hands slowly started to move outwards, and her fingers found the main sore spot on his right again. He bit down more sounds as he felt her brush over the other knots he knew about on that side, before taking a deep breath because oww. He glared at Nora where she was still looking smug as she sipped her drink, and was opening his mouth to snap at her for finding his pain amusing, but then Hannah shifted her left hand down slightly and he couldn’t stop the hiss this time as she pressed into something he hadn’t realised was hurt.

“Ok, you aren’t as bad as you could be at least. Lean back and try to relax, this won’t work if you stay all tense on me.”

He nodded stiffly as she moved behind him, and he took another slow breath to try and steady himself, force himself to relax against the back of the chair. Which went right out the window when she slid her right arm around him from behind and pulled him back against her as she bent down, then settled her palm directly on the last spot she’d found.

He understood why she was holding him almost immediately as she started to push and he tried to jerk away with a yelp out of instinct. She chuckled, holding him still as she gently rocked her palm in a circle, then kept the pressure going as she slowly moved sideways.

“Are you ok Hannah? You said you slipped?” Nora asked, and he both heard and felt Hannah laugh almost directly in his ear, making him shiver and close his eyes.

“Ah, yeah, I was being dumb,” she said as she repeatedly stroked his back in the same place, applying a little more pressure each time. “We’d finished setting everything up for my horses, oh, they’re being dropped off this afternoon. You’ve gotta come meet them! Marinette is white with these red spots all over her, and it looks like she’s wearing a mask, and Adrien is all black with the floofiest mane I’ve ever seen! But yeah, one of the skylights got stuck, and I didn’t want to go find a ladder, so I started climbing up the wall to try and reach it.”

She paused as she moved back to where it had hurt, and gently pushed her thumb into the area. She circled a few times, before he felt a breath puff against his ear.

“How’s that feeling?”

He nodded, since he wasn’t sure he was able to talk and sound normal right now. The way her hands moved on his back working out the knots and lumps and soothing the pain away, and the feel of her face pressed against his head while her breath puffed against his ear as she talked, on top of everything that had happened between them yesterday, was all working together to make him feel incredibly off balance.

“Good,” she chirped, and he held his breath as she swapped her arms around his front. She shifted her head around too, to lean down and start breathing against his other ear, only she seemed to be closer this time, as her breath echoed louder.

A small whimper escaped his lips as he swore he felt hers brush against his ear, which thankfully got ignored since her thumb pushed down on the biggest knot she’d originally found at the same time and started to stroke over it from side to side. 

“So I’d just climbed off the divide between two of the stalls and onto one of the wall beams, and was stretching up when he knocked into something behind me. So I tried to turn to look, and, well…”

He huffed a laugh which turned into a grunt of pain when she pressed harder for a moment. He opened his eyes again, sparing a glance for Nora who was watching Hannah with raised brows and an amused expression, obviously having picked up that there was more to the story than she was telling. He turned his head as far as he could to glare at her from the edge of his vision when she pulled back slightly from his cheek.

“Hannah, you were standing on a wooden beam six foot up a wall on one foot by your toes, holding onto a metal pipe that was coming away at the top, and reaching out into the room for a lever on the ceiling. Me knocking over the rakes and shovels as I moved to catch you was a justified reaction to thinking you were going to break your neck.”

“I wouldn’t have broken my neck,” she muttered sulkily, leaning her head against the back of his as she smoothed her hand along his shoulder blade, rolling her hand in small circles over the last few knots. “I wasn’t that high up. And turn your head forward and relax! You’re getting all tense again.”

He snorted a laugh as he looked back to Nora, who was looking between them seeming torn between amused and concerned. “Her feet were level with my head, she was above stone slabs, and she would have landed on her back,” he said flatly, trying to let go of the fear and tension that had built back up from remembering the scene. “No padding on the floor, no safety line or harness...”

“Please don’t start talking about tying me up again, not here.” 

Hannah’s embarrassed mutter, which he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear, was definitely too quiet to reach Nora judging by the way her eyes softened as she focused on him. She leant her cheek on her palm as she rested her elbow on the table and picked up her glass of juice again. 

“So she fell and you caught her?”

He nodded quickly, biting his lip as Hannah pushed down on the small cluster of pain in the middle of his shoulder blade. He reached up to wrap his hand around Hannah’s wrist across his chest as she worked in the same pattern as before. It was dumb. She was right there behind him, her hand moving steadily against his back as she soothed the last of the pain away, breathing and talking in his ear, but he still felt instantly better from holding her.

She paused, then smoothed her hand from his spine to his side one last time before wrapping her left arm around his front too, pulling him back against her chest as her head moved round to rub her cheek against his.

“Yeah. He was all heroic when he caught me in his arms like I was a princess from those old world fairy tales,” Hannah said softly, without even a hint of the teasing he’d expected from her, and squeezed him gently. She stayed like that for a few breaths, long enough that Nora’s smile started to take on a knowing edge, but then she let go and pulled back. She patted him lightly on his no longer hurting shoulder before moving round to stand at the end of the table and smile at him, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

“All done. Though next time you get stiff because of me you need to tell me! You know I’m always happy to give you a hand when you need it.”

He watched, stunned and speechless, as she turned on her heel and walked towards Ginger, ignoring Nora’s splutters as Hannah slid into one of the seats and leant in close to Ginger. He turned back to Nora, trying to hide his burning cheeks behind one of his hands as Nora rocked in place, tears of laughter gathering at the edge of her eyes as she held both of her hands over her mouth.

“She has no idea what she said, does she,” he asked with a groan, because he already knew the answer from Nora’s reaction.

“None at all,” Nora whispered through giggles as the tears started to fall down her cheeks. “And I can’t wait to tease her about it later!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** [Tempting Fate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/51578611) **


	11. Trusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As friendships grow, you reach levels of unspoken understanding and trust in each other.

July 3rd, Wednesday 

Arlo opened the door and let himself in, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He untied then kicked his shoes off into the pile near the door before walking through to the kitchen.

“Hannah? Where are you?” he called as he got himself a drink from the tap, draining half of it before refilling it. He heard a vague groan coming from her living area and chuckled as he grabbed a bottle of herbal mixture from her fridge, looping the bag he carried onto his elbow and following the sound of her vague curses.

She was sitting herself up on the couch, looking sleep mussed and grumpy and beautiful in her old baggy clothes, though everything but her beauty faded as she caught sight of him. She reached out as if for a hug, but he handed her the drink instead, and snorted at the face she pulled as she looked at it.

“Don’t complain, you know it helps.”

“I know,” she whined, popping the lid off. “But that doesn’t make it taste good.”

“Maybe you could try blending other things in with it?” he mused as she started to drink. “Your sweet tooth kicks in around now, right Hot Stuff? There are apples and snakeberries around town. I can try to find you some strawberries next time I head to the marsh. And Southblock gets lemons in sometimes, if you want to try that?” he offered as he sat down in the corner of the couch, leaning back against the pile of cushions she’d set up for him.

She lowered the drink, pulling another face and sticking out her tongue as she put the bottle on the floor, out of the way. She shifted round and moved closer to him, snuggling under his raised arm and resting her head on his shoulder as she curled her legs up so they were folded over his lap. She tugged his hand down to press against her side, and sighed happily as he applied light pressure. 

He was still trying to get used to her just laying on him like this, this casual intimacy that she kept starting ever since he’d first made her sleep on him when setting up her stable. He was now almost scared to initiate anything, not quite sure where the lines were anymore after everything with that and the painting. But he was happy to let her use him however she wanted, if it meant he could be with her like this.

He placed the bag of food in her lap and she perked up slightly, pulling it open and looking in as he twisted round to grab the book he’d been reading to her off the side table.

“Oh? What’s this? You got me, you got me spaghetti and hot sauce…?”

“Of course, Hot Stuff,” he said with a grin, allowing himself that much in his position. “Or hot pot, since you were looking at both the other day, and I know you don’t like cooking when, yeah,” he cut himself off with a cough, ignoring her giggle as she kept looking through the bag. She pulled out the two smaller boxes and opened them, oohing appreciatively.

“Black forest cake and crispy pancakes too? You spoil me,” she sighed, lifting her head to rub her nose along the underside of his chin, and he held himself very still as he felt her lashes tickle his cheek. “I’ll have to make sure I tell Zack not to kick your butt too bad when he gets round to visiting.”

He swallowed, then cleared his throat as what she said filtered through his brain.

“Why would Zack want to kick my butt?” he asked, confused. From what she’d told him about Zack, surely her childhood friend would appreciate that he was looking after Hannah in his place?

“For stealing me away and spoiling me better than he does,” she said simply, as if that made any sense at all, pressing her face against him and humming happily. He swallowed again, letting his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment before he forced them back open and tried to remember what he’d been saying.

“Right. Well, one of those pancakes are mine, so hands off.”

“One of?” she asked, pulling away from him and diving back into the bag.

“Yeah. I knew you wouldn’t want to wait to eat your dessert after your dinner like a normal person, so I got you some pancakes to snack on while I read,” he told her, watching her pull the last box out and checking inside it.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then set the dinners and other desserts back in the bag and moved it to the floor, lifting the lid of the pancakes and breaking a piece off. She held it up to him, and he frowned at her.

“I just said that one’s for you, and I can’t really take that right now,” he pointed out, tracing his fingers over her stomach and holding the book up with his other hand to demonstrate why. She rolled her eyes at him, and moved to press the piece of pancake against his lips. He opened his mouth automatically and let her feed him, her fingers barely brushing against his lips before she pulled them back, her cheeks now a slight pink.

“Yes, I know, but I want to share and you don’t have to hold it if I do this. Now stop complaining and find where we were,” she told him pimly, snuggling her head back against his shoulder again. “I’m really excited to find out how they get themselves out of the mess they’ve made for themselves.”

* * *

July 17th, Wednesday 

“Hannah? Where did you… oh for the love of noodles, seriously?”

Arlo sighed as he looked down at Hannah, curled up next to a piece of rubble out of sight from where he’d been.

"Everything ok there, Captain? Did you find her?"

He stopped to look back over his shoulder at Albert, walking towards him and looking politely worried. Which he didn't believe for a second, but he couldn’t entirely explain to himself why. 

There was just something about him today, something about the way he’d been talking to Hannah, constantly asking her questions that, judging by the way she had reacted to them, he hadn’t needed to ask. Something about the way Albert had been watching her that had seemed... off. 

Something about the way Hannah had acted last night when she’d asked Remy to come with them this morning while they surveyed the site for the new bridge, to protect her from any monsters here at the back of the tree farm at five AM. The way she’d seemed to relax when first Remy, and then he had said they’d come along.

There was just _ something_.

"Yes thank you, she's fine. You can go ahead and start back to town now, get started on those plans for the bridge? Remy will see you back safely."

He looked over the businessman's shoulder to catch Remy's eye, who nodded his understanding and called out to Albert, asking something about the new permanent bridge to the marshes. He stood there watching them as they mounted up and left, then he turned back to Hannah and dropped down next to her, reaching out to shake her shoulder gently.

“Hannah? Hannah, come on, wake up. You really can’t sleep here.”

She groaned, turning her face towards the rock as one of her arms came up to bat him away.

“Go ‘way A’lo, sleeping,” she slurred, the parts of her face he could see all scrunched up.

“No can do,” he soothed, avoiding her hands to lay his own on her foot this time to shake. “Come on, you need to get up so I can get you home, and you can get back to sleep in your bed, ok?”

She moaned, long and low, before she pushed herself up to glare at him sleepily. She had creases and marks on her cheeks from where she’d leant against the rock, and half her hair was pulled from her ponytail and puffed up around her head, her precious pen that lived there looking ready to fall out. She looked gorgeous, he thought, before trying to shove that thought to the back of his mind, to examine properly later.

She shifted round to face him, then held out her hands to him, and he took them to pull her to her feet. She stumbled slightly when she was up, grabbing on to his arms to steady herself, and then leaning her head against him with a huge yawn.

“No, don’t do that,” he chided gently, trying not to laugh. “No falling asleep again until you’re on Spacer please.”

“Mmmmm, but you’re so warm Arlo,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against him. “So warm, and so soft, and really comfy, and you smell--”

Whatever he smelled like got cut off as she moved her head, the words getting lost in his jacket. He laughed then, and she lifted her head up to glare at him, though the effect was ruined by another yawn.

“Come on Hot Stuff,” he said softly, stepping back and leading her forward. “Let’s get you home.”

* * *

July 27th, Saturday 

Hannah grunted as her hand scraped against the wall as she spun herself into the gateway under the sky bridge. Where was he? She was sure she’d seen him heading in here just a few minutes ago and there!

“Arlo!” she called, running over to him by the tree in the middle of the park. He half turned, continuing to peer up into the branches for a moment before looking at her, his wonderful smile already forming on his lips, before he saw her face and it faded away again into concern.

“Hannah, what’s wro-ungh.”

She winced slightly as she crashed into him, her hands gripping his jacket sleeves both for balance as she stood on her toes, and to pull him down towards her.

“Play along, please,” she whispered hurriedly. “I promise I’ll explain later.”

Staring up at him, her fingers clutched at him tighter, distinctly aware of the passing time, until he nodded sharply despite the dazed look in his eyes. With a sigh of relief, she stepped around him and put her back to the tree, then tugged him forward to stand flush against her, his hands brushing against her sides as they shot out to brace himself on the trunk.

The feeling of Arlo pressing against her front was completely different to every other time she’d hugged him so far. Normally, she was tucked against his side with her head on his shoulder while he read to her on her couch. Or she had an arm wrapped around him in a half hug as they walked back to town from their training runs to the tree farm. Or even when she draped herself over his back to hug him from behind while he worked on reports at his desk in the Corps. But now?

Now he loomed over her, his chest moving against hers with every breath they both took, while his hips shifted distractingly as he tried to get his feet back under himself from where she’d made him stumble. He moved her hair with every exhale, sending a shiver down her back from how nice it felt. And the smell. She’d thought she’d gotten used to being surrounded by his smell. But apparently she hadn’t.

Catching him in the middle of whatever he’d been doing meant he was warm, and so all the different things that made up “Arlo” to her were stronger than usual, filling her nose and wrapping around her like a favourite blanket, and she hated that she couldn’t take even a second to enjoy it like she normally did, because she was running out of time.

She grabbed his hands and moved them to her waist, trying not to shiver at the way his fingers twitched before spreading out and pressing into her. Sparing a quick glance at his face, she had to bite her lip against the moan that tried to slip out and made herself stare at his shoulder again. The dazed, confused look was still there, joined now by a dropped lip which looked oh so inviting. As if he was just waiting for her to close the distance between them.

Making herself ignore that, and then the feel of his muscles through his thin summer jacket as she moved her own hands up his arms was incredibly difficult, but she had to, so she pushed the thought aside while sliding her arms around his neck. Later. She could think about all of this again _ later_.

Tugging slightly as she stood on her toes again, bracing herself against the tree, she tried to pull his face closer. After a breath which seemed to last forever while he stared at her blankly, he seemed to understand what she wanted, and leant down so she could wrap herself more firmly around him. She moved one of her hands up into his hair, burying her fingers into it and biting her lip to keep in the gasp that tried to escape from the sensation, and the small noise of either surprise or pain he made.

Hopefully it would look exactly as she hoped to anyone walking by, she told herself as she rubbed her fingers against Arlo’s scalp in an absent minded apology, and Albert would _ finally _ get the hint that she wasn’t interested in him. She’d thought he might have worked it out after all her efforts to avoid being alone with him during the bridge survey, but he Just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And if this didn’t work? Well. She’d just have to be even _ more _ obvious somehow.

She stared blindly at nothing as she listened, fingers continuing to move in Arlo’s hair and pushing herself off the tree when the bark started to rub through her thin top. Arlo must have noticed her discomfort, because he slid his hands further behind her to cushion her, one settling in the small of her back, and the other sliding up to rest between her shoulder blades, deliciously warm palm pushing against her spine with his fingertips brushing over the bare skin above the low cut back of her top. Peach’s socks, that felt _ nice _, but she had to ignore it.

Footsteps echoing from the bricks of the archway sounded loud over her breathing, and she tried to hold her breath to focus on them. Solid steps that clacked. So not Sam or Remy’s work boots which sounded softer, thankfully. She could _ not _ deal with the teasing she’d get from Sam if she saw this. More like dress shoes, which narrowed it down considerably. Too light to be Gale’s, and too heavy to be Isaac’s--

Arlo’s fingers twitched against her, pulling her tighter against him, and she focused on his face again only to lose the breath she’d been holding in a rush.

He was staring at her. His wide blue eyes darting all over her face, as if he’d never seen her before. Which was stupid, because they saw each other practically every day, even if only in passing. He’d tilted his head to the side, pressing into her hand as she’d kept stroking fingers through his hair, and must have leant in closer at some point because the gap between them seemed smaller.

He still hadn’t shut his mouth some part of her brain noted, watching as his tongue slowly ran across the inside of his bottom lip. Which was, which was fine. The warm air ghosting over her own lips in quickening bursts wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest. In fact, it was really quite… quite nice.

Fluttering lashes drew her gaze back up to his eyes. The beautiful blue colour she loved to stare at when she thought he wouldn’t notice was seemingly being swallowed by the black of his pupils, and then further hidden by his eyelids which were sliding lower and lower.

Tipping her own head up, so she could see him better she told herself, she couldn’t stop the gasp as her nose brushed against his. It was only the slightest of touches, barely anything at all compared to how she was holding on to the rest of him, but it felt like she’d been zapped by a live power stone. A shiver ran down her spine, every point of contact between them seeming to spark and tingle as a warm feeling started building inside her, and she had to close her eyes against the sensations. Because damnit, no. No, Arlo was just helping her out, he had no idea what was going on, or what she was thinking. She couldn’t take advantage of him like this, not without asking him first.

Everything felt more intense with her eyes shut though. His fingers curling on her back, pulling her even closer and eliminating the sliver of air that had remained between their bodies. Silky hair sliding through her fingers as she tried to hold on, ground herself somehow. Their noses brushing again, somehow feeling more significant this time. And his breath on her lips, coming faster and harder, as if his own were next to hers. As if his own were practically _ touching _ hers, even though she knew that couldn’t be true.

“Hannah?”

By Peach, she’d swear she felt his lips brush over hers as he whispered her name, making it sound like a prayer. But she had to be imagining things, because there was no way, no way at all that Arlo would be trying to kiss her right now… would there?

The scuff of shoes on paving slab and an annoyed “tch” seemed overly loud in the otherwise quiet park, and Hannah held still as the slap of flat shoes on brick moved away again. She was left in the deafening silence of the park, drowning in everything Arlo was doing to her senses, with no way to save herself.

Not that she was sure she really wanted to.

She hummed questioningly, barely even audible really, but he must not have expected a response from the way he twitched against her, fingers spasming and breath catching. Damn him, he had no idea what he was doing to her right now, and how much it was taking her to not give in and close that last slim gap between them and--

“Mrrow?”

Cold air washed over her face, and her eyes snapped open when Arlo jerked again. She had a perfect view of the underside of his jaw and his neck, his bandana brushing against her nose and filling her head with him in a new way.

“Pinky, no!”

She didn’t have a chance to work out what he’d meant before he flinched, hunching his head forward just in time for the fat cat to drop from the tree above them and land on Arlo’s head, pushing him forward and bumping him into her. Pain flared in her forehead and she hissed, eyes screwing shut again for only a second before flying open as a heavy weight dragged on her shoulder. She turned her head in time to see the demon cat parkour off the tree behind her to jump to the ground, then sit down to start licking her paw.

“You useless damned fleabag,” Arlo muttered angrily, pulling his hand back from between her shoulders and reaching up to his head. “See if I ever try to get you down from a tree ever again.”

Laughter bubbled up and out between her lips before she could stop it, soft giggles filling the space between them as she reluctantly let go of his hair in order to rub her own head.

“Is that what you were doing? Rescuing her?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Not that she deserves it. You hear me, you rotten cat?”

He glared down at Pinky, who simply lifted a back leg in order to start washing herself, and she couldn’t help but laugh again at the disgusted look on his face. Only to stop when his expression smoothed out as his eyes moved to her. The soft, gentle look in his eyes made her knees feel slightly weak, and she was grateful she still had an arm around his neck. Though she really should let go of him soon.

“Are you ok? Your head I mean. And what,” he paused to swallow thickly, before continuing in that low, husky way he had sometimes that made it feel like desert hoppers had moved into her belly. “What was that all about anyway?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, nothing a juice won’t cure. And that was—”

The bell rang out, announcing the end of the school day, and her head snapped round towards the gap next to Mars and Carol’s shop. Because stinking slurpees, she was meant to be at the research centre already.

“Remind me to tell you tonight, ‘cause I’ve gotta go. Thanks Arlo, take it easy today! And find some ice for your forehead, there’s already a mark there.”

She didn’t let herself look back at him as she ran across the park and through the alleyway, not sure she’d be able to resist going back and wrapping her arms around him again if she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Ladroitte here!  
I didn't write this chapter (lovely Alien_Duck did) but I drew art for the very last scene. Hop on over to **[my tumblr](https://nerdnag.tumblr.com/post/189436479159/arlos-fingers-twitched-against-her-pulling-her)** if you want to see it!  
[EDIT July 2020: I've now coloured it too - see that version here: **[coloured art](https://nerdnag.tumblr.com/post/625330171620229120/i-finally-coloured-the-drawing-i-made-before)**]
> 
> Next chapter will be out December 6th. ^_^


	12. Deep End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A well-meaning compliment misses its mark and leads to laughter and regret

July 27th, Saturday 

Arlo leant back on his hand, taking a swig from his bottle of liquor and tilting his head to look up at the stars as he buried his fingers in the still warm sand. Hannah sat next to him, waving her own bottle about as she ranted about Higgins and how he’d supposedly “stolen” a commission from right under her nose again. Arlo just smiled softly, rolling his eyes and sighing in the appropriate places as she got more and more into her story. He’d heard it before, of course, but he knew Higgins was a recurring issue in Hannah’s life, so he let her vent in peace. She always got so engaged in her own stories, so he was perfectly fine with just sitting there, smiling softly at the way she flailed her arms around.

“He _ knew _ that commission was for _ me_,” she exclaimed at one point. “He knew it, and he still took it from me!”

“If it was for you, then why was it posted on the commission board?”

She threw him a glare. Ouch. Yes, the comment had left his mouth before he could think. But honestly. He knew her rivalry with Higgins was bad, but for her to accuse him of stealing from her or the Guild was crossing the line and she knew it. It was one thing to complain about the petty things he’d actually done, but for her to exaggerate to make him seem worse wasn’t something he’d stand for, not that she always remembered that when she’d been drinking.

“Well maybe it wasn’t for me _ exactly_,” she admitted, rolling her eyes, “but everyone in Portia knew that Gale had me in mind when he drafted it.”

Arlo smiled and shook his head, then put the bottle to his lips, parting them as the now luke warm liquid sloshed towards him. The alcohol was really starting to get to his brain, which would have once freaked him out. Being the Captain of the Civil Corps was a job, but there were no firm lines drawn between work and private life for him; if something happened in his spare time, he wouldn’t just stand by and hope things got resolved without him just because he was supposed to be free. He was always ready, always on duty, and that meant that he had to always keep his mind clear _ in case _something went to shit.

But then he’d told Hannah about his reasoning, and her reaction had been to curse, grab the closest bottle of liquor and shove it in his hand. ‘You can’t support the whole world on your shoulders,’ she’d said firmly. ‘You need to take breaks, or you’ll burn out.’

He’d taken it slow that time, still wary. But after that night Hannah had decided that once every two weeks, on Saturday evenings, they were going to bring alcohol with them to a secluded space on Amber Island and she was going to teach Arlo how to relax and stop obsessing over work. They’d had three of those lessons now, and he hated to admit it, but she was starting to get to him. Nothing of catastrophic magnitude had ever occurred during one of their excursions, only little things that could just as well be handled by Sam or Remy, and it _ was _nice to get away for a while from all the stress of being the Captain. Besides, spending time with Hannah was always a plus.

“Anyway, Higgins is annoying, but at least he isn’t trying to get in my pants.”

Arlo tensed, turning to look at Hannah, but she just drank from her bottle, revealing nothing.

“What was that?” he asked carefully.

She rolled her eyes as she swallowed the liquor. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that apparently I’m the next Portia girl to cross off on Albert’s list, and he’s been getting on my nerves.”

Albert? That damn ladies’ man was flirting with Hannah? The mere thought made Arlo’s blood boil. He scowled. “Do you want me to have a chat with him?”

“No, it’s fine.” She paused, lowering her bottle to the sand and slowly spinning it with its neck between her thumb and index finger. Then she glanced in his direction, dimples forming at the corners of her lips as she smiled at him. “You already helped me lose him twice, you know.”

He frowned as he tried to remember doing anything close to that, because surely he would have known if—

Oh.

“The tree farm,” he guessed flatly, and when Hannah didn’t quite manage to bite down her embarrassed smile, he added, “and then the park earlier today.”

She nodded, and he felt the air go out of him. It wasn’t like he’d actually believed the incident in the park had meant anything--she had made it clear that she just wanted him to play along--but he couldn’t deny that there had been some part of him, a rather large part if he were honest with himself, that had held out hope. And the part of him that had _ wanted _it to mean something, well… That part had been taking up most of his brain power since.

“I’m sorry I just forced that on you,” she said, returning her gaze to the bottle between her legs. “I didn’t know what to do to get rid of him, and then I saw you enter the park, and…” She paused for a moment, then shrugged. “I knew you’d help me even without knowing the details.”

He glanced at her just as she looked back and met his eyes, and if he hadn’t known better, he would’ve said the smile she gave him right then was almost cheeky. He scanned her face, taking in the light dust of pink on her cheeks and the happy gleam in her eyes, and had to swallow down the urge to say something he’d regret. Because what he wanted to say was that he’d gladly help her again; that maybe they could do it sometime when there wasn’t a ticking cat bomb in the tree above them that would go off at the absolute worst time imaginable; that if she wanted, he could help her _ right now_… And by Peach, while his thoughts about Hannah tended to be intrusive even normally, the alcohol just made it that much harder to stop his brain from opening a direct channel to his mouth.

“Glad I could be of assistance,” he said before he could blurt out something inappropriate, then clenched his jaw tightly to stop himself from saying anything else.

Hannah looked at him for a while longer, tilting her head back as she drank from her bottle again. When she lowered it back to the sand, she did it so hard a bit of its remaining contents sploshed up through the neck and out on the sides. She let out a surprised sound, prompting Arlo to look at her out of the corner of his eye as she ran a finger up along the side of the bottle to swipe up the liquid, then raised it to her lips and sucked it up, lips pursing as they closed over the side of her finger. He swallowed, throat suddenly way too dry for his liking.

“But I’m gonna tell him off for real,” she sighed as she dropped her hand back to the bottle. “Otherwise I’m not sure he’ll ever leave me alone.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Looking away from her face in an attempt to clear his head, Arlo raised his bottle to his lips to take another swig.

“Oh, probably just that I have a thing for redheads and uniforms.”

Arlo spluttered and coughed, accidentally spilling out most of what was left in his bottle as he banged his fist into his chest, trying to breathe at the same time as his brain struggled to wrap itself around what she’d just said. When the coughs calmed down, he turned and stared at her, trying to read her face. She was smiling warmly, and the way her eyes gleamed in a way that rivalled the stars beyond made his chest constrict in anguish.

Because _ that _ was, that was _ clearly _ a description of him, and it was _ clearly _ very obvious and blatant flirting, and he had to say something back, he couldn’t just stare at her like a damn fish, because he’d been lowkey waiting for this moment to come for _ months _ and he wasn’t going to let it slip away now just because he was an idiot. Hannah was amazing, she was amazing and clever and beautiful and brave, and _ damn him _ he was not screwing this up!

His right hand fell to rest on the satchel on his hip, fingers twitching to reach inside for the handcrafted bracelet that had been resting in there for almost a month now, just in case the right moment ever came. 

“Hannah,” he said, mentally cursing at how he just didn’t seem capable of forming the right words in his head, “I… I really like brown hair. I-I mean, I really like how your hair is brown--”

He trailed off when Hannah pursed her lips for a second before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, shoulders shaking and hand flying up to run through her hair as she closed her eyes and just _ laughed at him_. He stared at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes and running down her cheeks, feeling how his own face flared with sudden heat.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “stop laughing, you plierimp.”

Had he misinterpreted her? Had he missed something? Because she’d said she had a thing for redheads and uniforms, and surely he was the only one… 

His thoughts trailed off as he realised that no, maybe he wasn’t the only one who fit in on that description. There was one other person he could think of; one other person who had red hair, and who was already close to Hannah, judging by what he’d seen during the push up competition. Oaks. And while he wouldn’t call Oaks’ outfit a _ uniform _per se… a bear skin wasn’t necessarily less of a uniform than a jacket with a Captain’s chevrons on its sleeves, was it?

“Oh-hoh-hoh frick, ohh Arlo I’m so--so sorry,” she squeaked, fanning her face with her hand as she tried to stop cackling. “That was--that was, wow!”

His hand moved from the satchel to instead fiddle with the almost empty bottle standing in the sand beside him, and he wearily flicked its neck with his index finger to make it fall over and slosh out the rest of the liquid into the sand, which then softly bubbled down beneath the surface. 

“You--you like _ brown hair_,” she giggled, swatting at his arm, which he just gritted his teeth against. “Oh wow Arlo, you’re freaking hilarious, you know that?”

“Okay okay,” he sighed, “moving on…”

She finally calmed down, a few more snickers slipping out between her lips as she scooted closer and leant her head against his shoulder. “This is nice,” she sighed softly, still smiling as she turned her face up towards the stars.

Uh-huh, Arlo thought, real _ nice_.

* * *

July 28th, Sunday 

Hannah watched Arlo as he thumped the head of the training dummy with his fist again and again; left, right, left left, and then from above, and right again. He seemed more wound up today than usual, even despite the fact that they’d had one of their Amber Island Saturdays yesterday and that he logically _ should _ be a little hungover, or at least feel the aftereffects of yesterday’s drinking. Hannah herself had a persistent headache that kept chafing at her, so it was only fair that Arlo should feel something as well.

She yawned, smiling apologetically when he stopped to look at her.

“Sorry,” she said, “I’m paying attention, I promise.”

He gripped the training dummy’s shoulder as if it was a friend that needed his support, resting slightly against it as his chest heaved slowly.

“Did you manage to catch any sleep last night?”

She looked away, hiding behind her hair as she felt her cheeks flush. Funny that he should ask that, because no, she hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Her mind had been running wild with thrill, fear, glee and embarrassment as it played back last night’s incident, and she’d been too drunk to really be able to get a grip on any of the emotions and which one seemed more suitable. In the end, she’d fallen asleep hoping that she’d be able to sort it out in the morning, but then the morning came, and… well…

She peered back at Arlo from behind the curtain of hair and saw that he was still looking at her, waiting for an answer. His face was serene, almost bored, and she mentally cursed at the fact that he’d chosen this particular moment to revert back to his characteristic unreadable expression. Why did he always have to do that when she needed to know what he was thinking the most?

“You know how it is,” she said lightheartedly. “I think I overdid myself with the drinks. Kept waking up and falling back asleep all night.”

He tilted his head to the side, studying her face, and she knew she was fucked, because unlike him, she had never been good at keeping her emotions from showing on her face. Her smile felt plastered onto her lips as she waited for him to call her out on it, but to her surprise, he turned away and picked up his water bottle from the floor, raising it to his lips and tipping it up to drink. Now _ that _ was new. No admonishing looks? No knowing _ ‘Hannah’ _s? Not even a weary eye roll?

“Three to six,” he said when he lowered the bottle again.

She frowned. “Huh?”

“That’s the sweet spot. Three to six punches at a time, then pull back and shift to some light jabs while you catch your breath. The moment you stop punching, you’re out of the game.”

Oh. Back to fighting techniques, then. 

She wondered if he remembered more of what happened yesterday than she did. Because what she remembered was that she’d finally had the courage to flirt with him, and that they’d laughed and had a good time together. But if that was the case, why was he acting so strange today? 

She studied him as he rolled his shoulders in front of her, getting ready for the next training session with her. What if… What if she was misremembering things? What if they hadn’t actually flirted last night? But it felt so real… 

“Hannah,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “You up for another round, or would you rather go back to bed?”

She knew it was meant as a jab, but the offer actually felt tempting. Sighing, she planted her feet firmly on the floor and faced him squarely. She didn’t want to waste his time; better to save the thinking for later.

But as she turned to him, she caught his gaze flickering down her body; just for a fraction of a second, barely even noticeable, but she saw it. And then she saw his cheeks get dusted with a faint blush. She paused. So maybe… Maybe something _ did _happen yesterday…

Just to check, just to see if she could draw any new clues out of him, she fixed him with her gaze and gave him a playful smile.

“Maybe I would, but only if you joined me.”

Arlo froze, gaze snapping up to dart across her face. _ Wow, okay, I just said that. _ Seeing his reaction, she fully expected him to acknowledge the fact that she’d just thrown a glaringly obvious insinuation his way, and she was ready (not really) for whatever retort he had in store for her, but then something seemed to click in place in his eyes, and he relaxed again.

“The sooner you stop talking, the sooner you can rest,” he said, readying himself with his fists in front of his chest. “Come on, get into position.” 

Hannah swallowed back the lump that had just formed in her throat. Whatever she had expected… that was not it. That was… nothing. Just nothing. He’d dismissed her suggestion like it was just a simple remark about the weather. 

She raised her own fists as she saw him arch an impatient eyebrow. Fine. So he was still oblivious to her attempts, then. That was perfectly fine. 

She’d just have to be even clearer in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **   
[Not Like This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/51771574)   
**
> 
> You all might want to start stocking up on tissues and fluids for the rest of the month, just saying ^_~ A_d


	13. The Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo gets a little hot under the collar when he happens across Hannah and Nora at the beach

August 6th, Tuesday

Arlo tugged at his bandana, waving it a few times and trying to get some airflow moving down his t-shirt under his light summer jacket. He hated having to patrol in full uniform on days like today, especially the Amber Island beach where everyone was lazing around in their swimsuits making the most of the warm days. But as Captain he had a reputation to keep, and so had to put up with it. 

He pulled Spacer to a stop in the shade of one of the big trees at the edge of the sand, and looked out over the townsfolk who had gathered today.

Dr Xu was back by the bridge, standing in the shallows with his trousers rolled up and looking at something in the rocks. Antoine was, well, being Antoine, and staring at the doctor from next to a tree. Someone really needed to explain to the guild clerk how line of sight worked. And that stalking was bad. Someone other than Arlo.

Sonia was laying on a blanket, sunglasses on and possibly asleep in the late afternoon sun. Toby and Jack were following a snaillob at a distance, though didn’t seem to be trying to engage it. And he could see Carol with her three girls building an impressive looking fortress over on the east side of the island.

Which left his eyes to settle on Hannah and Nora.

Nora, wearing a brightly coloured flowery two piece swimsuit that went down to her knees and covered her shoulders and only left the barest hint of skin showing at her midriff, was standing in the shallows and laughing freely as she caught a large inflated ball thrown by Hannah. Who was wearing a much more revealing two piece which he found himself struggling to tear his eyes from. It would be modest enough, he thought, if Hannah wasn’t such an active person. The black halter top stopped just above her stomach, and the straps that reached up to her neck, and the thin strips of fabric crisscrossing between the two cups, perfectly framed the smooth skin there. And while the matching shorts covered just as much as her usual ones, except the outside seam, held together by more crossed strips of fabric, they were somehow a lot, _ lot _tighter.

Which he shouldn’t be looking at, he thought with a groan, rubbing at his eyes. He was on patrol, and it was his job to keep these people safe. Heck, Jack and Toby might have been mauled in the time he’d spent staring at her and--

His attention snapped back to Hannah as he heard her startled yelp and he’d got Spacer moving before he’d finished registering what had happened. Hannah wasn’t there anymore, the water was moving away from a spot behind where she’d been, Nora was holding her hands to her mouth and the ball was bobbing a few feet out into the water and, and Hannah was standing up, coughing and spluttering but laughing, wiping at her eyes.

He pulled his horse to a stop, and let his eyes scan her quickly. Or, he tried to scan her quickly.

Long toned legs led to a flat stomach, which continued up to the barest hint of muscle definition in her abs before it disappeared under her top. Water droplets clung to the material of said top, and he could see the water follow the curves as it flowed off. He shifted his eyes away to find she’d lifted her arms up and was sliding her hands through her hair. Her recently cut shoulder length hair, which she normally had back in a ponytail, was now falling freely as her hands guided it away from her face. Her face, he finally realised, which was turned in his direction and she was looking straight at him, with lips parted and eyes wide and shit, he’d got lost in his thoughts again.

He was shaking his head to start to turn away, reassured she was fine after all, when something in her expression shifted, and he froze. She shifted her arms, lifting them up and spreading them slightly, moving her hands further back into her hair as she let her head tip backwards while keeping her eyes on him. She moved to stand more firmly on one leg, sliding the other in front of it and down at a slight angle, which tilted her hips and showed off her tanned skin and his stomach squirmed. And then dropped straight out his body, when her eyebrow lifted, and she called out:

“Why don’t you join us Arlo? The water feels so nice and cool, and you’re looking _ awfully _hot and bothered there.”

His breath caught as he stared at her because really? Here? She was shouting that to him across the beach, in front of everyone? In front of children? He smoothed his face into bland politeness and kicked Spacer into motion again, walking him down to the water's edge.

“Nora, Hannah. How long have you been out here in the sun?”

“Hmmmm, not too long, don’t worry. We’ve got some drinks waiting back under the trees,” Hannah said, dropping her arms and shaking her hands out as she started to wade through the shallows towards him.

“Don’t worry Arlo,” Nora laughed over her shoulder, splashing happily towards the ball which was starting to drift away. “We’re not going to collapse from heat stroke, we listened to Dr Xu’s warnings.”

Arlo watched her for a moment, then let his eyes fall down to Hannah, who had got close enough to pet Spacer, gently stroking his neck as he snuffled her. Her arms were raised at just the wrong angle that it made staying focused on her face difficult.

“But you’d save us if we did, right Arlo? You’d scoop us up in your arms and hold us close and make everything better?” she asked quietly. And while it all sounded innocent enough, there was something about her tone of voice, about the way she looked up at him and fluttered her lashes, the way her arms squeezed her chest just that little bit higher as she hugged Spacer’s neck that set alarms ringing in his mind. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok? It’s not like you to look so, so _ bothered_,” she went on, voice low and altogether distracting.

He nodded, struggling to keep his breathing even as he licked his suddenly dry lips, eyes scanning the beach instead of down at her.

“Maybe we need to get you out of the sun, hmm? Get you somewhere nice and quiet and take a few layers off? Start with your jacket?”

He bit his lip, because that sounded, that sounded…

“I could help you get it off, if you needed me to I mean…?”

His eyes snapped back down to her, despite not wanting to, and he found she’d moved from Spacer’s neck to next to his leg, one hand hovering just above his knee, as if unsure if she could touch him or not. And he stared at her, because did she mean it? Obviously she meant it, or she wouldn’t have said it. But did she mean it in a concerned, innocent, friendly way, wanting to look after his health? Or did she mean it in a not quite so innocent way. An actually _ interested _way. An “I didn’t mean to laugh at you before, let’s try this flirting thing again” way?

Something in her face settled, but despite the months of knowing her, of learning her tells, he was suddenly lost and had no idea what that look meant. Her hand landed on his knee and squeezed gently, and she leant in closer to him, lashes fluttering as she smiled lazily.

“I mean,” she started softly, quietly, and he found himself leaning down to hear her better even as his mind screamed at him to stop and ride away as her tongue darted over her lips. “I mean, maybe I could help you get it _all_ off, if you wanted me t--”

“Oh wow Arlo! You really are looking red! Do you need to sit in the shade with us for a while? We have some orange and apple juice and I think there’s a bottle of cold red tea left over,” Nora piped up, coming to a stop next to Hannah with the ball propped on her hip. She was looking up at him in concern he realised as he quickly straightened, and he coughed a few times before attempting to answer.

“I, er, no thank you Nora. But I think I’d best be going. Make sure you both stay safe, ok? And go wake Sonia up before she starts to burn. I’ll, I’ll see you both later.”

He nudged Spacer to step sideways, and Hannah’s hands fell off his leg as he moved. He thought he saw a flash of hurt cross her face, but then she smiled up at him brightly and crossed her arms and _ shit _, he couldn’t get caught up looking again. So he turned his horse around, facing away from them, and trotted off, ignoring the whispers that immediately started behind him, and trying not to imagine the reasons why Hannah would suddenly be upset with Nora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >bumps chapter count back up to 33 and laughs awkwardly< Hahahahaha, don't mind us <__<;;;  
Remember, comments give us energy and we are super grateful for all the ones you've left so far, and we are really, really excited to know what you think of the chapters coming out the rest of the month... ^_~


	14. Knot This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo and Hannah discover they have something in common that ties them even closer together

August 10th, Saturday

Hannah didn’t need to see Arlo’s face to know that he was scowling at her; she could hear it clearly in his voice.

”I know you’re a brilliant Builder, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt here,” he said with a huff behind her back. ”Because surely Hannah, you’ve _ got _to be joking.”

She felt her cheeks warm as she held on to the rocky ruin wall, leaning her head away from him and hoping he couldn’t see her face. ”What? I’m holding myself up, aren’t I?”

”Sure,” he acknowledged. ”But what happens if you lose your grip?”

She yelped as she felt warm hands carefully grab her hips, keeping a steady hold of her as his feet shuffled against the little bits of loose rocks and pebbles on the ruin ground.

”Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re still alive, and this lesson is sorely overdue.”

His fingertips gently tapped against her sides, causing her to bite down a gasp as his index fingers brushed the naked skin between her shorts and her top. It was stupid, but everything felt so intense with him these days. _ Freaking snaillob slime, get a grip, he’s just helping you down. Nothing more than that. _

She loosened her grip of the wall and let herself fall back into him, feeling his hands tighten their hold around her hips before starting to lower her and helping her plant her feet on the ground. Maybe she imagined it, but she could swear his hands lingered there for a moment longer than was necessary, until he seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat, then backed away. When she turned around to face him, one hand shooting up to feel her cheek to see if it was as hot as she feared, she saw him crouch down by the duffel bag next to the lantern and start to dig around for something inside.

“There you are,” he murmured, then stood up with a mess of rope and straps bunched up in his hand. Hannah stared as he sorted them out and held them up to show her. One hand held a harness not unlike the one he wore over his jacket, except this one seemed to wrap around the waist and legs only. The other held a long rope that looked surprisingly sturdy for it’s comparably small width. She swallowed, knowing full well that this was just standard climbing equipment, yet she was unable to ignore the growing excitement curling in her lower abdomen.

“You want me to put that on?” she asked, surprised over how small and squeaky her voice sounded.

A crease appeared between Arlo’s eyebrows. “Well, yeah… that’s the idea. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” she hurried to assure him, because while the thought of strapping herself into that harness did make her feel certain…_ things, _ “uncomfortable” wasn’t one of them. But she couldn’t exactly tell him what she actually felt, could she?

But then she paused, chewing on her lip as she thought, eyes darting between Arlo’s face and the harness. Because she _ had _been trying to flirt more blatantly with him lately, but she hadn’t really gotten any sort of response out of him yet—which was in part thanks to Nora and her awful timing, she thought begrudgingly—so maybe this was a good opportunity to try again?

She let her tongue dart out to lick her lips, feeling her heart flutter when she saw his gaze follow the movement, eyes widening slightly. “It looks really complicated, though. I’ve never put one of those on before.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up as he visibly relaxed, and he let out an amused huff that ruffled his bangs slightly. “That’s not something to be proud of, Hannah.”

She fought down an urge to roll her eyes. Why did he have to be so dense at times like these?

“I meant,” she said slowly, making eye contact with him to make sure he understood her this time, “I might need some help getting into it. So I know I’m wearing it right I mean. I could just watch you put it on of course, but then I won’t know if it _ feels _ right when I try to put it on by myself? 

Arlo’s smile melted away, his hands lowering slowly to his sides as he looked at her. When his gaze started running down her body, she could almost feel it.

“Er,” he said, “yeah, sure. That’s…” He sucked in a breath. “I can do that.”

She took a deep breath to try to calm herself, but when Arlo didn’t make any kind of move towards her, she raised her eyebrows at him. He blinked as if remembering himself, then moved forward, dropping the rope to the ground as he held the harness up before her.

Slowly, while holding her gaze and almost as if he expected her to yell and push him away at any moment, he brought his hands around her back and wrapped the waist part of the harness around her from the sides. He lowered his gaze then, and so she looked down as well to watch as his nimble fingers slid the buckle closed and pulled the strap to secure it.

“Too tight?” he asked as he raised his gaze to look her in the eyes again, and he was so unexpectedly close that she could feel his breath against her forehead, tickling her pleasantly. And his voice... His voice had already lowered to that amazing, husky version that always made her insides coil.

She shook her head, not trusting her own voice enough to speak. Arlo nodded, took a deep breath and got down on his knees. He clearly did it to better be able to reach the straps that were supposed to go around her legs, but she somehow hadn’t expected it and suddenly felt a lot warmer just by having him on his knees in front of her like that, hands fiddling with the harness beside her leg. Then he paused, and as he let out a sound that was half a whine, half a groan, she looked down at his face.

He was staring at the strap in his hand, and his lips were slightly parted, his cheeks a darker colour than normal. His chest heaved in a shuddering sigh, and her knees wobbled precariously when his breath puffed out against her naked thigh. His gaze darted up to meet hers when she hastily gripped his shoulder to keep herself from stumbling forward, and stinking flurpees, his eyes were basically black, that’s how wide his pupils were. She should look away, but those eyes just drew her in, and she couldn’t blink, couldn’t even _ breathe _ until his gaze fluttered away again, seemingly out of embarrassment. And seeing how she really was making a fool out of herself, she couldn’t blame him.

“Sorry, I think I—” she started at the same time as he said, “Do you think you can—”, and they both trailed off into silence, waiting for the other to finish. She squeezed his shoulder, prompting him to clear his throat and straighten slightly, gaze focusing once again on the strap he held next to her leg.

“Um,” he said in that quiet voice, “I was going to ask if you, er… if you could part your legs for me?”

Hiding her instant gasp with a cough, she widened her stance to create more space between her legs while trying desperately not to allow his question to echo in her brain, but she knew, she just _ knew _she was going to be kept awake by the memory of it every single night for the rest of the month at the very least.

“’Course,” she said, trying for cheerful and probably missing the mark completely, but she couldn’t really tell with her heart thundering loudly in her head.

She forced herself to stare straight ahead when his fingertips trailed against her skin as he looped the straps of the harness between her legs before quickly clasping them into place, pulling them snug around her thighs. Only when he pushed himself up to his feet again and towered over her did she reluctantly meet his gaze, her bottom lip sliding up beneath her teeth. His eyes flickered to her mouth for a second before returning down to the harness as his hands secured the last bits with trained movements.

“There,” he said, then cleared his throat and took a step back to gauge his work. “I mean, it’s not as complicated as it looks, you just strap it around your waist and legs, then use the belay loop to attach the leg loops to the waist…” He trailed off and shook his head with a sigh before crouching down to pick up the rope from the ground. “You’ll see when you get yourself out of it later. Let’s just move on.”

Hannah could only nod, waiting silently while he measured out the rope with his hands. He hesitated for a moment before holding it out to her. She blinked at it in confusion, unsure what he expected her to do.

“It’s for the climb itself,” he explained. “You tie it to the loop in the front.”

“Oh.”

She stroked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, glancing up at his face to see if he looked as flustered as she felt, but no, he’d put on his Captain mask and was watching her patiently. She wasn’t sure what more to say; she’d already embarrassed herself with the harness thing and didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than he probably was after all of that.

He seemed to realise she wasn’t going to take the rope, because he slowly lowered it as he tilted his head to the side.

“Do you… want me to show you how to tie the knot?”

“Please,” she murmured, relieved to have him offer.

He nodded and stepped up to her, reaching for the loop at the front of the harness, but she raised her arm in front of her instead, causing him to pause and glance at it before giving her a confused look. She felt her cheeks start to burn again.

“Um,” she said intelligently, “I was thinking maybe it’d be better if you showed it on my arm, because I’ll see it better?”

It was a weak excuse, but not implausible. She _ would _have to bend her neck a lot more to see what he was doing if he demonstrated it on the actual loop, after all.

She watched his eyes flicker down to her wrist and could see him hesitate for a moment before he raised the rope towards it. Following his gaze, she saw him start to loop the rope around, his fingers brushing against her skin in a highly distracting way.

“Is this the same knot that Sam used on you when you’d twisted your ankle?” she asked quietly in an attempt to break the heavy silence that had lowered itself over them. When he didn’t answer right away, she glanced up at his face, just in time to see him lick his lips.

“Mm,” he said as he loosely tied the rope around her wrist. “No, this is a Figure 8 knot, it’s a bit different. It would be a little overkill to use this knot to tie someone up.”

Hannah chewed on the inside of her cheek as he tightened the rope around her wrist before continuing to loop the ends around each other again.

“That depends on what you use it for I guess,” she said quietly.

His hands stilled. She kept her gaze fixed to the knot, too scared to look up at his face. Instead, she tried to focus on her own breathing, which felt overly loud in the otherwise silent ruins.

She’d never said it to him outright—because really, what kind of desperate would she have to be to do that—but he must know she had a partiality to this kind of stuff. She could never resist playing around with his handcuffs whenever she got the chance, and she’d been asking both him and Sam about various types of knots so many times he’d have to be stupid not to make the connection. And come to think about it, that was… not great, maybe, but at least it meant he would definitely get what she was referring to now. And while that was terrifying on one hand, maybe it was exactly what was needed to draw a reaction out of him.

What Arlo responded, however, was not at all what she’d expected.

“Not really,” he said as his hands started moving again. “A tie like this is inappropriate for the more… exciting occasions. I’d recommend a single or double column tie for that kind of thing.”

Hannah froze. As Arlo finished the knot and tightened it again, she glanced up, not knowing what to expect, and felt her next breath catch in her throat when she saw the intense gaze aimed straight at her.

“Yeah?” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away.

He nodded. “There’s one in particular I could show you sometime. It won’t collapse in on itself, and can be easily untied if necessary.” He paused, then smiled and added, “Safety first.”

She could only gape as his smile slowly widened and his eyes gleamed in amusement, because _ what? _ Was he… was he actually flirting back? But then something shifted in his gaze and the smile was wiped away by his Captain mask as he looked down at the tie around her wrist, clearing his throat.

“Just… Never use this knot for that, ok? This is for climbing only. I don’t want you to hurt yourself… Or anyone else.”

She nodded, stumped that he’d actually picked up the crumbs she’d dropped. But maybe that was it. Maybe he just wanted to make sure she was safe, whomever she ended up trying it out with. Maybe this wasn’t flirting it all. No, it was probably just a thing of him caring for her—as a friend.

The air went out of her in a long exhalation. “Fine. I won’t.” Lowering her voice, she grumpily added, “Not that I’d get a chance to try it anytime soon.”

She wasn’t sure if he heard it or not, because he didn’t acknowledge it in any way; he just started untying the knot again, Captain face still intact.

“Did you follow how to make one of these or do I have to demonstrate it again? I still have to teach you how to fall properly, but I don’t want to skip over anything.”

“I… think you might have to show it again,” she admitted, shrinking in on herself in shame. But he shot her a reassuring smile as the rope fell away from her wrist.

“That’s fine. Just try to follow along this time, ok? And tell me if you want me to repeat any of the steps.”

She straightened again, nodding decisively. “Ok.”

She didn’t want to waste any more of his time today. Better luck next time, she supposed.

* * *

Arlo wrapped the blanket more snugly around his shoulders before lifting his glass to his lips. It felt kind of strange to drink alcohol from a glass now that he’d gotten used to always drinking straight from the bottle whenever he and Hannah met up--which, let’s face it, was basically the only times he ever had alcohol--but she did have a point that it would be stupid to not use glasses when they were just a room away anyway.

He wiped a stray drop of rain water from his cheek that had dropped from his bangs. He’d tried to push his hair back, out of his face, but it was just impossible to deal with when it was wet and kept flopping back down. Hannah had offered to tie it back with some of her hair ties, and he’d been tempted to say yes, if only because she’d looked so unabashedly happy when she asked… but he wasn’t sure it would even have stayed up. She didn’t know his hair like he did.

And speaking of not knowing his hair, he almost tipped over his glass in surprise when something soft and heavy was dropped onto his head, darkening the world around him as it started ruffling his hair around. He sighed. 

“Hannah,” he said, “what are you doing?”

“What does it feel like? I’m drying your hair, you dense poppycock.”

He rolled his eyes but let her continue. The damage was already done; there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. So he sat there and waited while she went on, a smile tugging at his lips as she hummed happily. Good thing she was so unbelievably adorable, or this whole thing might have flushed his mood down the drain.

“Why weren’t you wearing an umbrella hat, anyway? I told you it was going to rain, I wouldn’t have suggested we stay inside this time if it weren’t for the weather.”

“Have you even looked outside?” he asked dryly. “It was drizzling at best when I left the Corps. I didn’t really expect to have an entire bloody bathtub of rain water tipped over my head during the walk here.”

She tsked as she removed the towel from his head. “What did I tell you about--_ pfft! _”

Arlo cringed as she cut herself off with a shocked laugh before letting out a half-sob.

“You--you look like--!”

“A wild bush?” he suggested with another sigh. “A baby flurpee?”

“A llama that’s been struck by lightning!”

He raised his eyebrows. Well, that one was new.

She walked around to stand in front of him, crouching down and then slowly lowering her hand to touch his ruffled hair with a happy, incredulous look on her face.

“So fluffy,” she sighed dreamily. 

“Are you done?” he asked as he gave her a mock glare. 

She blushed, biting down on her bottom lip as she withdrew her hand. Then she sat down a few feet from him, watching him run his hands through his hair in an attempt to fix the mess she’d caused. He basically would have needed to go duck his head under the tap and start over from scratch if he wanted to get it under control again, but he couldn’t bother. Not when he was sitting here, on Hannah’s living room floor, in front of a crackling fire and wrapped in a blanket, with _ her _just a short distance away lighting up the room with her infectious happiness. No, he was fully content with her thinking of him as an electrocuted llama if it meant he could stay here and soak in her radiance.

He finished patting down his hair and raised an eyebrow at her in question, to which she responded with a firm nod.

“Yes. Much less llama. It’s more of a bird’s nest now.”

Arlo groaned. No. No, that wouldn’t do. 

He let the blanket drop to the floor as he stood up and shivered when it left him in his t-shirt, which was slightly damp from the rain that had managed to soak through his jacket earlier. At Hannah’s amused gibes about how vain he was, he muttered a comment about it all being her fault before going to the bathroom to drench his hair in water.

When he returned a few minutes later, hair wet again but at least in some semblance of order, she had refilled both of their glasses with a bottle now standing off to the side, and was raising her glass to her lips as she watched him sit down. He expected her to insult his hair again, because he knew there was still much to be desired on that front, but she just stared at him, holding the glass still for a long moment without drinking. He hesitantly pulled the blanket up around his shoulders, shifting under her tactile gaze. Only when he cleared his throat did she finally snap out of it and lower the glass, cheeks a healthy pink that could just as well be from her closeness to the fire as from anything else.

He felt more self-conscious about his hair now than he’d done before he went to fix it. Why the frog fish was she looking at him like that?

“I, er, I refilled your glass,” she said as she leant forward to scoot his glass towards him across the floor. He received it gingerly, pulling it up to his crossed legs and trying not to think about the stare she was _ still _aiming at him.

“Thanks,” he murmured as he withdrew his hands underneath the blanket. With the new tension in the air, he couldn’t help but think back to their moment in the ruins earlier. Things had been a little awkward between them ever since the night she laughed at him when he tried to flirt--an awkwardness that had _ not _been helped in the slightest by her comments at the beach a couple of days ago--and while he’d been adamant to make sure that she knew not to use a tie that might hurt her, he was starting to get a little worried that he’d single-handedly brought them beyond the point of no return and that this awkwardness was a permanent thing now.

He needed to check that they were ok. That his obsession with safety hadn’t ruined anything between them. Even though it scared him half to death, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t bring this up with her before it went too far.

“Hey, Hannah,” he started gingerly, fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “I wanted to apologise in case I overstepped some sort of boundary earlier, in the ruins. I just don’t want you to get hurt over something I could easily prevent.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye just in time to see her blink, then shoot him a surprised look. “Oh,” she said. “D-don’t worry about it. I mean... it’s good to be prepared, y’know?”

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, feeling a relieved smile pull at his lips as his shoulders instantly relaxed. “Exactly,” he agreed, then cleared his throat as his fingers moved from the blanket to the glass. “So... guessing you haven’t tried it before, then.”

Maybe it was a bold statement at this point, but eh, what the heck. He kept his eyes focused on her face as he raised the glass to his lips and drank, and so he saw her lower her head and shake out hair from behind her ear to hide behind.

“Ah, no, I uh... Not with ropes, at least,” she murmured, only just loud enough that he could hear. “Have... have you? I mean, of course you have, or you wouldn’t know all those things about what kinds of knots to use…”

He paused. Now how should he answer that? He should have known the question would be shot back at him, but he hadn’t thought far enough to prepare a suitable response. And he wasn’t sure what was the right thing to do here. Honesty was always preferable, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or say something that would make things awkward between them… 

… That is, more awkward than they already were.

He hummed quietly as he lowered the glass again. Time was running out, and he needed to say something. “I, yeah. I learnt a few knots as part of Corps training, but I know which ones work for this type of thing from, er, personal experience. It was a while ago, though,” he added quickly, because on the off chance that Hannah actually _ was _ interested, he couldn't have her think that he was occupied with someone else.

"I can imagine, with how obsessed you are with work!"

He shot her a glare, and when he saw the cheeky grin plastered on her face, he reached out and gave her arm a light shove.

“Hey.”

Hannah giggled, which worked magic on the remaining bit of tension in the air. He felt his lips pull into an easy smile as she let out an involuntary snort before biting down on her lip.

“Ok, but seriously,” she said when the giggles stopped coming, “Was there no one in Portia into that kind of thing, then? Before I came here.” She froze and widened her eyes after the last words had left her mouth. “Uhh, I mean—”

His lips jerked slightly, but he forced himself to keep smiling. “More like, no one in Portia I’ve been interested in before,” he said softly, watching her face closely to see if she’d noticed his specific phrasing, but no, no hint of that.

“Yeah yeah, fine,” she allowed with a hesitant smile, “I guess that’s a valid reason.”

He sighed as she drank from her glass, and raised his own again. He didn’t even know why he was still trying when she clearly wasn’t interested in him in that way. Sure, it was still fun to see what reactions he could draw out of her, but what was the point in the long game? 

He glanced in her direction as she started to choke on her drink. She hastily lowered it to the floor and coughed a few times before turning a wide-eyed stare towards him. His heart jumped. Had… had she noticed after all?

“Wait,” she said incredulously. “So _ you’re _ into that kind of thing too?”

… No. No, she hadn't. 

He couldn’t stop an ironic smile from leaking out through the cracks in his mask, but subdued it quickly as he hid behind his glass. God, she was slow sometimes. Maybe it was the alcohol. 

“With the right person, sure,” he said as calmly as he could. “Trust is really important when you’re playing with someone’s freedom like that. And that level of trust can be…” He trailed off when he realised the word he was heading for was ‘erotic’ and thought for a moment before instead ending the sentence with, “... attractive.”

He thought he could hear a soft gasp, so he glanced at Hannah again. Even in the dim lighting, with the crackling fire colouring the room in a reddish hue, her cheeks had gone visibly darker. She wasn’t looking at him, instead having her full attention focused on the liquid in the glass in front of her, which gave him an opportunity to study her features more closely. And Hannah really was beautiful. Dark, curved eyelashes; long nose with rounded tip; full lips that looked incredibly soft from this angle… and then her jawline, with the smooth skin of her neck leading his gaze down to the neckline of her t-shirt, which hugged her curves snugly all the way down to the waistline of her soft sweatpants. 

Then his gaze slipped down to her wrist at the side of her leg, and his thoughts gripped on to how it had looked wrapped in rope. He discreetly shrugged the blanket off, but it didn’t help much against the heat streaming his way from the fireplace. 

“So,” Hannah started, so quietly he could barely hear her. He leaned closer, supporting himself with one palm against the floor, which caused her to throw a wide-eyed glance in his direction before looking away again. “So do you like to be the… the one who ties the knots? Or the one who’s tied up?”

Oh, bandirats. She wasn’t pulling any punches with the questions. But was she asking because she was _ trying _to fluster him, or because she was sincerely curious and wanted to know what she was getting into? If it was the first one, then ok, he might have cut this short to keep his sanity intact. But if it was the second one… He wanted to help her any way he could.

“Er,” he said, shifting his weight to run his free hand through his hair. “Yes?”

He watched as she slowly turned to look at him, frowning and opening her mouth as if to ask for clarification, and then as she promptly shut it again and blinked as the realisation seemed to hit her.

“Oh,” she choked out. He could practically read the questions she wanted to ask on her face, yet she asked none of them. 

“What about you?” he asked, mostly in an attempt to lift some tension off her shoulders, because her face was really starting to get red now. Not that he’d mind hearing what she had to say to that question. It was knowledge, after all. Knowledge was always good.

He half expected her to squeak out something inaudible, that’s how flustered she seemed, but she actually took a moment to drink some more, heave a deep sigh and tuck her hair behind her ears, and when she looked at him again, she was almost back to regular Hannah again. Curious, brave Hannah.

“I’ve tried a little bit of both, and um…” She forced out a breath in a whoosh, then laughed nervously. “Both are nice, but I really… really liked being restrained? Though like I said before, we never used ropes,” she added quickly. “Only handcuffs, hooked to the bed frame. They weren’t real like yours, but... Um…”

Arlo forced himself to stay calm and relaxed on the outside even though he felt the exact opposite on the inside. She really was opening up now, she really was sharing, and he didn’t want to do anything that would make her uncomfortable again. Which meant he had to say something reassuring _ right now, _because she was starting to look slightly panicked.

“Handcuffs, huh,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “I’d say that’s pretty advanced. So you had a bed with some kind of bars then, not a headboard?”

She nodded slowly, seeming to disappear into her own mind as she stared into the fire. “Yeah… It did have bars…”

Arlo shifted back so he could grab his glass with both hands. He was grateful for any distraction he could get.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said when her gaze focused on him again. “I overshared, didn’t I?”

He shook his head, then shrugged. “We’re friends, right? I want to help you any way I can.”

As soon as he’d said it he realised how it might come across, so before she could answer, he hurried to add, “By answering your questions.”

She gave him a grimace that he wasn’t sure how to interpret; in any other context, he would have read it as disgust, but why would she feel disgusted when he said he wanted to answer her questions? No, it was probably the lighting, or the alcohol, that muddled things.

The grimace melted off, and she turned away with a sigh to focus on the rest of the liquid in her glass. “We really are good friends, aren’t we,” she murmured.

He had no idea how to respond to that, so he didn’t.

He could see her shake her shoulders out of the corner of his eye. “You… mentioned a tie you could show me?” she asked carefully, and he was suddenly very glad he didn’t have any rope with him.

“Ah,” he said, “yeah. It’s a foolproof one that’s easy to learn. Maybe next time we’re at the Corps I can… show you…” 

He trailed off as Hannah got up from the floor and bounced over to the doorway leading to her bedroom. She couldn’t… Did she have rope in her bedroom? 

As he heard her root around in the other room, he tried to breathe deeply to calm his racing heart. Because if Hannah had rope, there was really no way for him to get out of showing her how to tie the knot, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that without losing his sanity. It was one thing to discuss knots and techniques with her, but to actually show one of them… Did she even realise what she was doing? Was she really so unaware of the tension between them?

Or was this just a game to her, to see how easy it would be to break him?

_ No _ , he told himself, _ don’t think like that. Hannah wouldn’t knowingly torture me like that. _

… Would she?

“I don’t know if any of these will work,” she said as she returned, dangling at least half a dozen different ropes from her hands. “These are all I have. I guess you know better than I do?”

Arlo raised his eyebrows. “I, uh… yeah.” He cleared his throat as she sat down beside him again, closer this time. “Let’s see them, then.”

She laid out all the ropes on the floor in front of him, separating them for him so he could easily discern the different types. He looked over them before removing three which were way too thick, one too short, and another one that was made of nylon, which was a material he really didn’t like using for this. What was left were three ropes in various materials, all with a diameter of about quarter inch. He moistened his lips as he picked out one in hemp, pausing after he’d grabbed it to really think about what he was doing here. Even if Hannah wasn’t bothered by any of this, he definitely would be. And didn’t that mean he should be the responsible one and say no to helping her with this? Maybe Sam could show her instead. She knew this tie, he was fairly sure of that. 

“Hey, Hannah,” he started, pausing to swallow. “I’m not sure this is--” 

He stopped abruptly when he turned to look at her, because by Peach, she looked so excited. Her eyes had this curious gleam and her pupils were fixed to the rope in his hand in anticipation, and he just… couldn’t refuse, could he?

He sighed in defeat as he lowered the rope to his lap. “This one. I’d use this one.”

Hannah let out an intrigued hum, and she seemed to be waiting for him to continue, so he eyed her wrist and was about to ask if she had something he could demonstrate it on that _ wasn’t _her own skin and bone, but then she piped up before he got the chance.

“Can we use your arm?” she asked, and he just blinked at her, because how was he supposed to… oh, never mind, he actually might be able to do it one-handed. Yeah, that would work a lot better than using Hannah’s wrist. He heaved a relieved sigh and raised the rope to his own left wrist.

“I… I meant,” she said in a low voice, causing him to freeze, “do you think I can try it, and you can talk me through the steps? I learn best by doing.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, he silently handed the rope to her and held out his right arm for her. He had to bite down a groan at the way her eyes widened in excitement when she held the rope next to his arm and looked to him for instructions.

He cleared his throat and tried to go into his Captain mode. He was just teaching her a tie; nothing more, nothing less. 

“Right. Start by doubling over the rope. What you get in the very middle, that little loop there, is called the bight. It’s what most ties start out with.” He waited until she’d done as he said, then continued, “Now wrap the doubled length around my arm. You want to do that at least twice; any more than that is just for the aesthetics. Twice is sturdy enough because it’s been doubled over.”

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her fingers and the rope felt against his skin. This was not the time. This was _ not. The. Time. _

“Next, you take the bight and turn it over the two wraps, then beneath them. That’s what prevents it from tightening down later… No, don’t push like that. Here, hook your finger like this and pull it through.”

She nodded and hummed attentively as he lead her through the rest of the steps, and it wasn’t so bad after all when he'd gotten used to her touches around his arm and managed to push down the thoughts his brain wanted to force on him. The way she stuck out her tongue to the side and wrinkled her forehead together while concentrating on doing everything right made it hard for him not to laugh, because she really was adorable, even when she let out a string of curses halfway through. He allowed himself only a smile, not wanting to shame her for not getting everything right the first time, but she was so deeply invested in the knot she didn’t even glance at him. 

“There, now you bring the bight back through that loop and pull it shut, and you’re done.”

Hannah finished the tie with a grin and turned his arm back and forth to study the end result. He swallowed down a groan as she tugged the rope to test its sturdiness. 

“Wow, this is really pretty. Who knew I’d end up with something this neat on my first try?”

“You’re a quick study,” he said earnestly. 

She glanced up at him, a blush already darkening her cheeks. “I don’t think I’d be able to reproduce it without your help. I’ve already forgotten half of it.”

“Eh, just keep practising and you’ll master it in no time.” 

He wanted to slap himself. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he was going to regret them.

Hannah’s smile faded, and she lowered her head slightly to look up at him from beneath her lashes. 

“Maybe if you’ll help me practise,” she said, and he would swear on his left foot that he felt her tug his arm towards her as she spoke. His gaze darted down to her hands around the rope, and yes, she was definitely pulling him closer. 

“Hannah,” he said quietly, blinking as a clear shiver went through her body. What was going on? Was she actually… actually interested after all? In him?

Her bottom lip disappeared up under her teeth, and he felt himself start to lean in towards her as she kept pulling the rope. Her eyelids fluttered once, then twice, before she lowered her gaze to his lips, drawing out a silent gasp from him. And he was so close to her now, so close that he could feel her breath on his lips…

He froze, sobering up in a fraction of a second as the alcohol on her breath registered in his brain. He glanced down at her glass on the floor; almost empty, and how many had she had now? How many had_ he _had?

Letting out a sharp breath, he pulled back--as far as he could with her hands still wrapped around the rope tied to his arm--and felt a pang in his chest as she looked up at him in confusion. _ What are we even doing? _

“Arlo?” she whispered. “Is everything ok?”

He nodded, turning away so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes as he replied. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He reached over with his left hand to yank the bight from the tie, causing Hannah to yelp in surprise as the rope came undone around his arm. Then he shook it out so it fell to the floor, before he pushed himself up on his feet and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to get his brain in working order. “I’m getting us water. Stay here,” he added sharply when she moved as if to get up, and she immediately shrunk back to the floor.

He stumbled over the blanket on his way to the kitchen, grabbing hold of the doorframe to swing himself into the other room. The first thing he did was open the tap to the max, in hope that the white noise would block out everything else in his brain. _ Water. I’m getting water. Lots of cold water. _

And definitely no more alcohol tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
[Saving Face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/51965011)  
**


	15. Between Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo offers to help Hannah with a problem, despite the slippery conversation where the lines between them are becoming increasingly unclear.

August 23rd, Friday 

Arlo paused on the stairs leading from Central Plaza as he heard a muffled thump and lots of cursing. That sounded like Hannah, but she didn’t normally use such language in the middle of the day. Or the middle of town. Or, well, anywhere other than her workshop when things were going terribly, actually.

Running up the rest of the stairs two at a time to reach the pathway, he stopped to blink at what he found.

Hannah had her back to him and was crouched down at the side of the path outside the Mystery man’s shop, surrounded by pieces of a large metal bed frame and a giant mattress. And she was cursing as she seemed to be trying to gather bed slats into a pile to pick up.

“Are you ok?” he asked, walking towards her, only to step back again when she squeaked loudly, dropping everything as she jumped and spun round to stare at him. He watched as she breathed hard, hand going to her chest over her heart, before she laughed lightly.

“Peach’s socks Arlo, you scared me! You are way too quiet for someone so tall. I’m all right, just trying to get all of this home but I’m missing a hand... or eight.”

He blinked at her again, then the pile of furniture.

“Do you want to borrow my two for a while then?”

He immediately regretted his words and how they might come across, and felt the start of a blush forming, especially when she ducked her own head and it sounded like she took a slow breath before forcing her head up, cheeks now a beautiful warm pink, and nodding at him.

“If you’re sure you’ve got time to spare?” she asked, waiting until he nodded hesitantly before going on in a cheerful tone. “Then thanks. I was so excited to buy this when I saw the Mystery Man was back in town for the day that I ran up here and forgot my cart, and then I didn’t want to leave it all here on the road while I went back to get it. I’ve been shifting things along five foot at a time for the last ten minutes, but with you here, I can go at least fifteen!”

He shook his head at her infectious joy over something that seemed so simple, and let his eyes slide over the bedframe again. Only to snap back when he registered the solid, graceful, looping bars that made up the headpiece, and the conversation from two weeks ago replayed in his mind. “Or,” he made himself say lightly, swallowing when his mouth felt overly dry. “Or I can run up to the Corps building and bring _ that _ cart down, and we load it on to that?”

She looked at him with her mouth hanging open, finger raised in the air, before she sighed and dropped her head, grinning at him ruefully.

“Yeah, that would probably be better,” she admitted, then pulled a face at him when he snorted, glad to have a reason to escape for a moment. 

“I’ll just be a minute then. Stay right there, ok?”

She nodded and he turned to the slope, jogging up it and then over to the stable. He went behind it to pull the cart out first, then let out Spacer and led him to the harness, quickly attaching him before moving to hold his bridle. He slowly walked Spacer backwards down the slope, since there was no way to turn him at the bottom, and he needed the time to centre himself, but found her exactly where he’d left her.

“Glad to see you’ve learnt to follow orders,” he teased as he engaged the brakes, and she pouted again as she stood up.

“You are not one to talk about following orders,” she muttered, picking up half the mattress supports and dumping them into the cart. “Mr can’t sit still on a bucket.”

“Rich, coming from little Miss can’t remember to eat, or take breaks, or buy real food. Oh, and little Miss likes to fall asleep in random places around town…”

She sniffed loudly, turning her face away and making an obvious show of ignoring him as she grabbed the rest of the bed slats, and he laughed again, enjoying the easy banter they always fell into. They shifted the remaining bed parts onto the cart, Arlo trying not to blush, given his thoughts sparked by their conversation from their last drink night. The next of which was tomorrow. Shit. Ok, that was most definitely _ not _happening at Hannah’s then. He climbed onto the bench and he clucked Spacer into motion back up the hill. They’d have to take the long way back, past the ruins.

“Thank you so much for helping me, Arlo,” she started as they climbed towards the Corps and Clinic. “It would have taken me all day to get it home if you hadn’t. And then I would’ve been all rushed putting it together, and I would’ve forgotten to check it in the morning, and then it would probably have ended up falling apart at the absolute _ worst _time, you know?” 

Arlo felt his mind blank for a second as what she said filtered through. What would she consider the worst time for a bed to fall apart, other than…

"I mean, can you imagine how awful it'd be to go to climb out of bed and have the side collapse under you when you went to stand up?"

Oh. Well. Yes, that would be bad. Of course she didn't mean anything like he'd been thinking, even with all the other things she’d been saying recently. She shifted along the bench closer to him as they passed the Corps, her thigh brushing up against his leg. Which was fine, normal even. She always sat close to him when she could, and there didn’t seem to be anyone around to see and think anything of it.

They rode in companionable silence the rest of the way up the hill, and across the flat in front of Ruins Two, and it was, it was nice. Maybe he’d take her out for a ride sometime before the weather started to turn. See if she wanted to have another picnic by the duckpond? Or that little area, below the plateau? They could take both Marinette and Adrien out, give them some real exercise, and give Spacer a day off.

Just the two of them this time, without her inviting Nora along. Nora who had sat and silently laughed at him the entire time, and made little comments which caused Hannah to blush. And maybe, maybe he could talk to her, about everything going on between them? See if he could work out where exactly they stood?

“Say, Arlo," she said, peering up at him almost cheekily from beneath her lashes as she linked her arm through his, hand wrapping round his upper arm and her other resting on his forearm above his wrist, leaning her cheek just below his shoulder. "If you’re not too busy today, would you mind helping me put this together when we get to mine?”

He nodded warily, watching her from the corner of his eye and wondering if there was more to it than just that. He wanted to trust her, but something about her tone...

"Thanks! And then do you think you could help me test it maybe? I need to make sure the bars are as _ sturdy _as they look.”

Coughing violently as his breath caught in his throat, he bent over and gripped his knees because _ was she really going there right now_? 

"Arlo? What's wrong?" she asked as she leant down with him, and a quick glance found what he thought was a smirk fading away behind true concern. 

"Nothing's wrong, all good," he wheezed, thumping his chest. _ Move on, don't think about it, ignore what she said, _ his mind screamed, and scrambled for a change in subject. "So why did you need a new bed anyway? Did your old one break?"

"Huh? Oh, kinda. I’ve been thinking about getting a new one with bars for ages actually. And then after,” she stopped herself with a cough, looking away from him for a moment, and he looked at her, taking in her bright pink cheeks and the way she chewed her lip. He was both desperate and also not to hear her finish that thought, whatever it was, but she apparently decided not to. “Pa’s old one has been getting steadily creakier and wobblier for months now. So since I just got paid for that thing with Mali, I decided to splurge a little.” 

He thumped his chest again and nodded, guiding Spacer to the side of the path next to the cemetery fence as a DeeDee passed, and keeping their speed steady as they started downhill. Because yes. The _ thing with Mali _ as she put it. The thing he had been trying not to think about ever since it’d happened, but was more than happy to right now. Because _ really_. 

While she had truly impressed Mali with her speed and attention to detail in her work, the small blip in the middle of Mali’s visit where Hannah had climbed up Oaks to reach a switch because she’d knocked the ladder into the hot springs, when they were both already wet and slippery, was, well.

It was linked firmly in his mind to what she’d done immediately after, and he couldn’t think about that without risking smiling inappropriately at nothing, since the compliments she’d showered on him in her attempt to impress Mali with his exploits had stayed with him.

"Besides, you never know when you'll need the extra space, right? I’m hoping I might soon."

He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. Because damn. With that carefully bland tone she’d just used, she had to be doing this on purpose at this point. She just _ had _to. Didn’t she?

“I suppose,” he answered, almost evenly. “You, ahem. I mean, have you found someone in town that, erm, shares your preferences then?”

It was possible. She was fairly friendly with quite a few people, and he had no idea what any of the other guys in town were into after all, but he couldn’t be the only one who’d experimented with different things. So it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch if she’d found someone already. Or someone willing to try, he supposed.

Humming thoughtfully, she turned her head to look straight up at him, her chin resting on his shoulder. “Mmmm, I _ think _I have. I’m still trying to work out if they’re interested or not though.”

Idiot. Whoever it was was an absolute, fluff brained _ idiot _ if they didn’t jump at whatever chance she gave them, or give her a straight answer at least. There was nothing worse than leaving someone not quite sure where they stood, as he knew only too well. He struggled to keep the scowl off his face as he tried not to think of who it might be while he looked down at her, still staring at him, as if waiting for something. Though he had no idea what.

She sighed heavily, and turned her head back round, rubbing her cheek against him. “But if not, I could always invite the girls over for another sleepover I guess, now I’ve got more space.”

“Didn’t you complain about Nora and Ginger’s hair clogging your shower last time? And Sam wasting all your food trying to cook?” he asked, both grateful she’d stopped staring at him like that, and for her change in conversation topic.

“Well yeah. But my salt and sugar jars are clearly labeled, so that one was entirely on her,” she grumbled, slouching slightly, and he glanced down to see her pouting, staring moodily ahead at the archway as they approached it.

He looked back at the road, needing to watch as they approached Peach Plaza and pedestrians. Hannah pulled away from him, sitting up straight and shifting back to her side of the bench before anyone could see them. Which he appreciated, even as he cursed his need to keep up appearances in public. He hated not being able to sit with her, give her the physical affection she craved.

Well, he thought. A quick glance around the plaza from where they were next to the cafe showed no one. He felt safe enough to move his foot over, knocking against hers. He tried not to smile when she startled, looking down at his foot, then up at him. He shrugged a shoulder, keeping his eyes on the path, and had to bite his lip at the happy sound she made as she hooked her ankle around his. It was the little things.

They rode in silence again for the rest of the way down the slope. Hannah waved and tried to whistle at Sonia wiping down tables on the other side of the plaza, but all that came out was a quiet, empty whooshing sound. He snorted, earning a tap to his arm and a pout, before he rolled his eyes and whistled for her. Sonia looked up, and smiled as she waved back, and then he was turning the cart through the gate and sighing happily. A quick scan showed no one on either the tree farm or beach path, or walking along the wall. So that meant Hannah could…

Hannah must have been thinking the same thing. Because she shifted back over next to him, wrapped her hand around his arm again, and leant further into his space, resting her other hand on his leg as she smiled up at him.

“I’ve already said thanks for helping me, right? But tell me, is there anything I can do for you, to make it up to you? I’m sure this wasn’t how you were planning on spending your afternoon.”

“I, er,” he said intelligently, distracted both by the different sensation of driving the cart over dirt instead of pavement, and her hand on his leg, which had started to idly stroke long, smooth lines along his thigh.

“Anything Arlo? Anything at all?” she asked quietly, leaning even closer to him. He tried to quickly glance down, just to see what she was doing, and saw her head tilted up and lips parted invitingly, a lot closer than he’d thought she’d be. And was she, was she really offering…?

The cart jumped and lurched, and she yelped as she fell forward, her hand skidding off his leg and landing on the bench very, very close to him and he snapped his attention back to the cart because nope, not thinking about that. Not after what she was just doing, not after everything she’d said today. He gently tugged on the reins, avoiding the next pothole he could see now that he was paying attention, and was extremely grateful when she snatched her hand back, pulling it away from him before back to herself and then scooted to the side and jumped off the moving cart to run forward to her gate, unhooking it and swinging it open for him.

He guided the cart into her yard and over to her front door, pulling to a stop next to it and trying to breathe. Because ok. That was something. Now all he had to do was survive putting the bed together, and whatever she tried to throw at him through that. No problem! Piece of cake.

He glanced down, then closed his eyes and rubbed at them, distantly registering Hannah shouting that she’d just go get Spacer a feed bag, with extra apples. 

Cold showers. Cold showers and ice and paperwork and, and yes. He could do this!


	16. A Taste of Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo doesn’t usually like desserts, but with a little help from Hannah, he finds new ways to appreciate them.

August 30th, Friday 

Arlo stepped inside her house and closed the door behind him, stopping for a moment to collect himself. Which Hannah would she be today? The playful, flirty Hannah who was slowly driving him insane by saying outrageous things? The subdued, snuggly Hannah who just wanted comfort in the form of hugs, soft touches, and hair stroking? Or the sweet tooth Hannah who wanted to lay over him and steal his body heat and listen to him tell stories while she ate desserts?

And the harder question was, which Hannah did he want her to be?

Taking a deep breath as he bent to untie his shoes, giving himself more time to calm himself, he then walked through her house towards her room, since she wasn’t on her couch in the main area. Glancing around as he crossed it, he noted how she’d rearranged some of the furniture again and had new photos on the wall. There were a few group shots scattered around her desk, with three directly over it. 

He stopped to smile as he looked at the one of her and him, taken at the Day of Memories a few days ago. Hannah was holding up a lantern with one hand while she tried to light the one he was holding with the other. She’d stayed by his side for the entire event before the lanterns, sitting inside the Round Table and watching out the window as people ran past. 

The middle photo was of her old friends from Barnarock. Her childhood best friend Zack held her in his lap with his chin on her shoulder while a guy and three girls draped themselves over them. Arlo tilted his head, trying to remember her friends’ names, since she’d shown him photos of them recently and told him about them all. The girl with pigtails was Claire, the one with the thin long braids and beads was, er, Jas? Yas? Yasmin! And he felt his mind blank as he looked at the last girl and the guy. He’d have to ask her again at some point. 

And then his smile faded slightly as he saw the third photo above her desk. One of her sitting between Emily and Oaks, with her chickens climbing over them and the three laughing. And Oaks had his arm slung around her shoulders. 

“Arlo? Is that you?”

He started moving again, ignoring the feeling in his gut as he reached her bedroom door, and paused.

She was laying in bed and he took another step towards her before he’d made the conscious thought, because it looked like this was possibly the worst he’d seen so far. Dark smudges under her eyes showing she hadn’t slept. Empty herbal juice bottles crowding her bedside cabinet. Blankets tangled around her, piled highest on her stomach and chest with her feet sticking out, showing off the old, loose, holey clothes she wore as pyjamas. She was in pain, and despite everything strange between them, all he wanted to do was help her however he could. But he stopped after that first step, because this was different.

Because she was in bed. She was in the brand new bed he’d helped her bring home, then put together before leaving as quickly as he could. It was the bed she’d made such suggestive comments about all the way through town, that were still haunting his thoughts. And there was nothing this side of Duvos that would make him climb onto that bed in order to hold her, like he did on her couch. It didn’t matter how much he desperately wanted to. Because there was a difference. And there were lines. And he was struggling to keep them straight as things currently stood.

Especially when his eyes snagged on the bright line of colour along the top bar of the head piece.

Ribbons and cords in various colours and textures stood out obviously against her pale bedroom wall. Some looked to possibly be silky by their shine he’d say, and at least one was a narrow leather strip. All looped around the bar, dangling down to brush against her pillows. Most of them were far, far too short for her to use for what she’d talked about it looked like, but several of them were definitely long enough. And the implications of them being there was-

He swallowed thickly when he saw the same hemp rope from when he’d shown her how to tie the knot before looped around the bars at the foot end, and made himself shift his eyes back to her.

She was pushing the covers down as she moved up the bed, propping herself against her pillows and whining in pain, and he allowed himself to go to her. Walking to the side and rolling her blankets off her to help. She smiled at him gratefully, then held out her arms, like she wanted a hug. And he, he couldn’t.

So he smiled back, and placed the bag of food from the Round Table in her lap instead, then moved to grab her blankets and flip them out, untangling them and folding them neatly over her legs, then turning and looking around her room. A chair next to her dresser, covered in clothes, was perfect. He took the few steps to it, and carefully moved the things to the floor, then brought it over and sat down facing her, ignoring the confusion and hurt he saw playing across her face.

But then she was staring at him, and her mouth dropped slightly, and a brilliant dark stain spread across her cheeks, stark against her otherwise washed out skin, and she looked down to start rummaging through the bag of food, and _ shit_. What on earth did she just think to make her blush like that? What part of all of this had finally registered and embarrassed her? Her comments about her bed? The things tied behind her shoulders he couldn’t help but constantly see? He was wondering if he wanted to ask when she made a happy noise, and pulled out a box with the lid flipped open, and the way she looked at the fruit puff had him immediately regretting not putting it in a separate bag.

“Hannah, that’s meant to be your dessert, I got you some mushroom crepes to snack on while I read--”

She didn’t seem to hear him as she took a massive bite from it. And he watched, frozen, as the cream splurged out of the edges of the pastry, dripping down the sides over her fingers, and somehow on her nose and around her mouth. She had a look of absolute bliss on her face as she slowly chewed, head tilted back and eyes half closed and humming happily. And he couldn’t look away from her. Which was bad. Because she was his friend, and she had no idea what she was doing to him, so he shouldn’t be looking at her like this right now. Not when she was in such a vulnerable state.

She hummed again as she took another bite, then her tongue darted out to lick up some of the spilled cream, and he must have made some sort of sound because her eyes shot open and focused on him and her cheeks flooded with more colour, and he almost swore. Because the sight of her, sitting in her bed, blushing and flustered and licking cream from her fingers, that was something that was going to stay with him for a long, long time.

“I, I’m sorry,” she said quietly, head ducking down and her shoulders hunching up, hand dropping back towards the box. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I’ve just really, really wanted one of these for a while, and the cream is just so good. I’d offer you some, but you don’t like sweets.”

Nodding tightly, he cleared his throat before turning away to look around for their latest book. Dislike of sweets or no, he was sorely tempted to see if eating the cream off of her would improve the taste at all, and he couldn’t think like that. He just, he just couldn’t.

“That’s fine,” he said gruffly, stopping to clear his throat again while he twisted in the chair. “That’s fine. Go ahead and eat it then.”

He spotted the book on the coffee table across the room, by the couch she’d moved in here. He went to get it, and started to flick through to the saved page as he walked back, so he didn’t look at her again until he was sitting down, and he bit down on a curse. 

She’d finished the pastry and was licking her fingers again with her eyes closed, and he could see her tongue darting out to curl around to get all the little smudges. And by the light, this was torture. Because he _ knew _ that she wasn’t doing it to wind him up. This wasn’t one of her little teases. Wasn’t something she’d planned. She was just as embarrassed over this as he was, and she simply wanted to get all the cream because that’s what she needed right now.

With a contented sigh her eyes fluttered open again, and immediately met his where he was staring at her. And he had the perfect view of that lovely pink stain spreading over her cheeks again before she ducked her head and looked away, rubbing her thumbs over her fingers self consciously.

Trying to glance down at the book to scan the page for where to start from, he looked back to her when he registered movement. She was wriggling down the bed, laying down and starting to pull the covers up to her face.

“Ah, wait,” he heard himself say, free hand already stretching out towards her. She stayed perfectly still as his thumb brushed across the skin at the side of her mouth, then across the end of her nose, scooping up the cream that she’d missed before it could get on her blankets. He doubted she’d want to bother washing them right now, after all.

He didn’t actually think about it when he stuck his thumb in his mouth, tongue swirling around to lick the pad clean, and huh. It did taste slightly different somehow. Which was… which was not something he should have found out or be thinking about right now, he realised as he watched Hannah’s cheeks darken even further. He felt his own flare as he pulled his thumb free, because really, what was he even doing?

“There, all clean now. You can pull your blankets up,” he said gruffly, shifting in the chair and going to cross his legs before realising he couldn’t, so propped his ankle on his knee instead and letting the book fall to his thigh as he looked down at it. He waited while she did so, only watching her from his peripheral while he kept his focus on the words. But that was still enough to see her pull up her covers to her chin, then stick her hand out from under them towards him.

He hesitated, just for a moment, weighing up giving her the comfort she wanted, _ needed_, against his own comfort. And sanity. But then the way her hand twitched and started to pull back made his decision for him. And he reached out to tangle their fingers together, laying them on the mattress in front of her as he started to read aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
[Surprise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/52140406)  
**


	17. Magic Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah wants to do something nice for Arlo’s birthday, and invites him over for a surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Surprise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/52140406)** happens earlier in the day, so while you don't HAVE to read it, it does provide a little extra context for Arlo's reactions this chapter

September 15th, Sunday 

Hannah hummed happily around her mouth full of nails as she moved the plank of wood into place and started to tap one corner down. Last board, and then she could use that paint to seal it _ properly _ this time, and then she shouldn’t have to worry about replacing the coop roof again at all during winter if she was lucky. 

She looked over her shoulder when she heard something behind her, and quickly hit the nail one last time before taking the rest out of her mouth and turning around. Arlo was riding through the city gate towards her, looking straight at her. She dropped the nails and hammer in the bucket with the rest of the repair supplies, then jumped off the coop's roof, avoiding her darlings, and hurried over to the gate to swing it open for him, trying not to ogle him as she did.

Something about him was different, though it took her a moment to pinpoint what. Instead of his usual jeans, he was wearing his soft workout trousers. And while he was wearing his Corps jacket, it looked to be his spare, given the lack of harness across his shoulders. It always surprised her when she saw him out of uniform, given how he wore it almost constantly while outside, needing to keep up appearances and all. Because while she _ did _ love his uniform, dressed like this in trousers that basically draped to highlight his muscles was, well. Not something she’d ever complain about.

“Hannah,” he greeted as he drew level, stopping Spacer just before the gate. His eyes flitted over her shoulder towards the coop then back to her face, a small furrow between his brows. “You said to stop by, is now ok?”

“Hey Arlo,” she chirped, leaning forward with her arms crossed on the bar. “Now is pretty much perfect, come on in already!”

He nodded, visibly relaxing as his smile grew, and she waited for Spacer to walk through with a soft snuffle in her direction. She laughed as she let the gate close behind them, then jogged over to the stable the long way so she wasn’t running behind Spacer. She grabbed a feed bag and filled it, sneaking an aroma apple into it so Arlo couldn’t object about her spoiling his horse, and waited while he took the bridle off before moving to hook the bag around Spacer’s head.

“Go inside and wait for me by the couch, I need to check the furnaces before I join you,” she said over her shoulder, smiling brightly at his resigned sigh.

She watched him walk towards her house, ignoring his mutterings since she knew he wasn’t really upset with her about making his horse like her better, before quickly checking the fuel levels on her copper and iron. She refilled them, and wiped her hands down her shorts as she crossed her yard.

She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed that her spur of the moment extra birthday gift was just a backrub. Sam had mentioned the mountain of paperwork he’d had yesterday when she told her about his surprise party last night, and then she’d seen how stiff he was when she got to the lunch, despite how he’d been trying to hide it. She had enough experience with stubborn friends that she knew what signs to look for. So while he’d never taken up her offer to help him relax from all those months ago, because she didn’t actually count that time at the Round Table when Nora had accepted for him… hopefully this wouldn’t be crossing too many lines between them?

Which was something she should have thought of earlier, actually. Given how things _ had _ been between them lately, this might just make him uncomfortable she realised with a silent groan as she opened her front door and walked inside. She kicked her shoes off next to his, and turned towards her living area.

Arlo was sitting on the couch, fingers playing with the fringe of the cushion in his lap. He was looking up at her with a strange expression. Half hopeful, half unsure. She crossed the room and moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders like she had earlier at the Round Table and humming happily against his cheek. 

“You looked really tense earlier, so I was thinking I could help you relax a little, if you wanted that I mean?” she said quietly, pulling back slightly when he shivered. She hadn’t meant to blow cold air on him like that.

“I, ah, yeah,” he finally said, and she smiled as she let go and stood up, patting his shoulders lightly.

“Great,” she soothed, turning towards her bedroom and allowing herself to trail her hand along his back until she was out of reach. After a quick internal debate, she called “In that case, take off your jacket for me?” to him as she passed through her door.

If he was stiff from paperwork, it was probably his lower back and neck, like she always used to get. And she’d been tempted, oh _ so _ tempted, to ask him to take his top off too. So she could finally get that chance to run her hands over his back and feel his muscles. It wouldn’t be _ too _ strange to ask, and it would actually be better that way since she could use one of the massage bars she’d made with Sonia the other week but… no.

She’d never asked Sam, Nora or Oaks to take all their layers off when she worked on them, so she couldn’t ask him she told herself with a sigh as she crossed her room to her chest of drawers and grabbed her soft, loose shorts out, quickly unbuttoning her work ones and letting them slide down to the floor. She was tying a knot in the drawstrings when Arlo’s voice floated through the doorway, sounding almost gravelly as he asked “What about my top?”

By Peach, what were the rules here? She leant sideways to rest her arm on the drawers, letting her head fall forward and trying to breathe evenly. He’d offered, which was a whole other thing to her asking for it, but should she let him? As much as she wanted to try and flirt with him, wanted to see if she could get him to notice her, she couldn’t abuse his trust like that. He was here as her friend, on his _ birthday_, and just…

“Hmm, leave it on,” she answered him, proud of how her voice only sounded slightly lower than usual as she straightened again and bent to pick up her work shorts from the floor, walking across her room to drop them on her chair before walking back out into the main room. And then couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her at what she saw.

He was sitting back against the pile of cushions at the end of the couch, the one he'd been playing with hugged tight to his chest with bare arms, his knees bent and his feet planted firmly on the seat. He looked at her as she headed towards him, his eyes falling to her shorts, and she wondered at the blush that sprung to his cheeks as he stared at them. They weren't that much different to her work shorts. Heck, she'd even say they covered more, given how loose they were and the way they draped. And she was almost positive he’d seen her wear them before. She stopped next to him, and shook her head fondly.

"It's going to be a little hard to give you a backrub if I can’t reach it, don't you think?" she asked, amused. He stared at her blankly for a breath, before his eyes closed and his head flopped backwards, a low groan slipping from his lips that made her shiver. The blush on his cheeks started to spread and darken as he clenched his jaw, which was odd because there was no reason to be this embarrassed over a little teasing, surely?

But then he was moving, shuffling down and to the edge and rolling to face the back of the couch, not letting go of the cushion until he was almost flipped over. At which point he moved it under his head while shoving the others out of the way, and wrapped his arms around it and buried his face in it with another low groan. She allowed herself a moment to study him, now he couldn't see her.

He took up the whole couch, the top of his head brushing one armrest while his toes pressed into the other. With his jacket off she was able to see his thin baggy tank top, which showed all the muscles in his arms and shoulders beautifully. His legs and hips kept shifting, as if trying to get comfortable, and she had to swallow as she let her eyes travel along his smooth lines and distinct muscles again. But then she shook her head and breathed in slowly.

Friend. He was here as her friend and she wouldn’t betray that by being inappropriate.

She lifted a leg to lean it on the seat next to him, and lay her hands on his back by his neck just below his bandana, causing him to stop moving.

“Ok, tell me all the places you hurt as I reach them,” she said, waiting until he nodded before pressing down gently.

He grunted softly as her hands moved out towards his shoulders where she felt the hard knots below the skin, and then again in the middle of his back on either side of his spine, all the way down to the band of his trousers. She hummed as she pulled back, weighing her options.

“This will be easiest if I sit on you,” she said flatly, repeating her mantra of _ he’s here as a friend _ constantly in her head. “Is that ok with you, or do you want me to stay here at the side?”

“Ah,” he muttered, and she waited as he seemed to think things through, before he jerked his head in a nod and pressed it further into her cushion. She shifted round, preparing to swing her leg over when she realised he was too close to the backrest, so she tapped his hip lightly. He jerked violently, breathing hard, and she felt guilty for startling him and hurting his back as he moved sideways, closer to the edge of the seat.

She climbed up and over then, carefully sitting herself on his rear, and bit her lip as he moved subtly under her and pressed the seam of her shorts against her exactly right. This was going to be torture!

She placed her hands firmly on his back just in front of her and pushed down gently, and sighed out loud when she felt him tense beneath her and bite off a moan. She moved her hands off him again and planted them on the couch as she leant forward and down, hovering over him as she tried to see his face. He was pressed firmly into her cushion still, and the little bit of skin she could see was still that deep red colour.

“Arlo,” she started levelly, trying not to smile when his shoulders hunched up. “I am fully expecting you to make noise while I do this. It is fine and natural and I won’t think anything of it, I promise. But if you try to stop yourself from making them, all you’re going to do is keep yourself tense, which will make things harder for each of us. You need to relax and trust me, ok? Please?”

She waited for him to nod again, and then for him to let go of the cushion and flex his fingers before she sat back and let her hands rest on him. She rubbed her fingers up and down along his spine a few times, letting him get used to the feeling of her touching him, before turning her hands so her fingers pointed to his sides and pressing down with the heels of her palms.

He stuttered a quiet groan, before he relaxed under her hands and it got louder. She started to slide her hands outwards slowly, and bit her lip at the sounds he started making. She repeated the movement again and again, adding a little more pressure each time she reset her hands. She moved up his spine slowly, being careful to follow the muscles instead of working against them.

She felt things moving and shifting under her fingers, small little pops and crunches that she smoothed away as she worked, then swapped to using her fingers, rubbing them in increasing circles out from where the pain had started to where she knew he wasn’t tense. Her fingers brushed down his sides as she ran her thumbs along the edge of his ribs, and he jerked under her, rocking forward then back and she almost groaned herself at the friction of the raised seam of his trousers plus the pressure of her shorts, before she coughed into her shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to tickle you,” she murmured with a wince, moving her hands back to safer territory again as he grunted. “But how’s that bit feeling now?”

“It’s, er. It’s good thanks,” he said huskily, lifting his face up slightly so he could talk. “Lower back is good.”

“Meaning another part isn’t? Oh, your shoulders and neck, right.” She lay one of her hands on the seat next to his head as she prepared to move up, and froze. Damnit, this was going to be difficult for her.

“You ok if I move up slightly? Actually, do you want to get up and stretch first? I’m sorry my couch is so uncomfortable to lay on, you must be on a lumpy bit or something, the way you keep shifting.”

“No, no I’m fine,” he growled, thumping his head down at an angle so his mouth was still free. “I’m, I’m fine. And yes, you can, you can move up.”

She nodded, more to herself since he couldn’t see her, and shifted to sit on his back where she’d just been working. He was warm against the inside of her thighs in a way that sitting on his butt hadn’t been, and she moved her legs more comfortably against his waist and ribs, and fought the urge to squeeze him. He was here as a friend damnit!

She lay her hands on his shoulder blades and gently felt along the muscles with her fingertips, starting on his left side. She found a small cluster a little way along his shoulder, and started working on them. She smoothed over them, then carried on along the muscle before working her way back up. Along the muscles, not across them, work with them she reminded herself each time her had the urge to rub circles. It was one of the main things that she remembered hearing at the library all those years ago.

He grunted and groaned as she worked, occasionally shifting under her and, rocking forward and back slightly, which had her rocking herself. She started biting her lip harder and harder to stop her own moans from slipping out. The feel of his warm waist between her legs and the simple motion was starting to get to her, and she knew as soon as he was gone she would be having a nice, long, indulgent bath with all these new images, sounds and sensations to help her relax.

Running her fingers one last time from neck to shoulder on his left side, she turned to focus on his right. The knots were bigger on this side and closer to his neck, one of them seeming to continue underneath his bandana. She started to reach for the knot, wanting to untie it, and paused. A vague memory of Nora talking about how important it was to him made her wary to touch it.

"Hey, is it ok if I undo this?" she asked, running a finger along the skin on his neck. "There's a knot under it I can't get at properly."

"Ah," he muttered, everything in his back tensing up again for an instant, before he shifted his arms and reached up to untie it himself. She watched his long, slender, nimble fingers quickly pull apart the knot, then followed them as they reached up and sunk into her cushion again, gripping it tightly. 

She made herself take a steadying breath, then lay her hands flat on his back. Asking him about the bandana had worked him up again, so she needed to fix that before she could go back to the knots. So she just rubbed her hands in random patterns, smoothing over his back and shoulders in lazy loops and long strokes. She ran her hands from the point between her legs all the way up to his now exposed neck, then trailed back down with her fingertips, sparking a long relaxed moan from him. 

She smiled, and moved her hand up to his neck, rubbing her entire hand over the back of it so her fingers brushed into his hair, before settling it at the juncture where the knot was. She smoothed over the skin there with her thumb, deciding she only needed one hand for this and leaning her left on the couch beside his head. It also gave her a bit of leverage, since her own back was twinging slightly for leaning forward, and she didn’t want to move further up him.

She tried to ignore the noises he made now, which were getting louder and less restrained as her fingers traveled across his neck, the grunts and groans sounding around his panting breaths. Just like she tried to ignore how leaning forward like this increased the feelings he sparked when he shifted around under her. She started rubbing circles with her thumb out across his shoulder, and then again as she moved her hand back in. She made another pass, not feeling any more lumps, and then decided to keep going. The sighs became more frequent as she did that. Happy, relaxed noises, without pain. She dropped down to lean on her elbow as her hand started to cramp, which brought her face down very close to the side of his. Her hand reached his neck again and she paused, considering.

Well, how many opportunities like this would she even get? And she could stop if he seemed too uncomfortable.

She lifted herself up and stretched the leg along the edge of the couch out, and let herself down so she was laying next to him, most of her body touching his. Her other leg she let stay draped across his, rubbing the side of her foot against his calf since that’s where it ended up. Her hand left his neck and moved up into his hair, threading through it carefully as she cupped the back of his head, then curled her fingers slightly as she started to pull back down. It was a wonderfully relaxing sensation she knew from experience, and exactly what she thought he needed right now.

His breath started to stutter a little, which was strange. It should be evening out, if anything. Why would he be getting worked up right now?

“Arlo?” she asked quietly, wincing at how low and scratchy her voice sounded, and quickly licked her lips and swallowed to try and fix that. “Everything ok?”

His head jerked in a nod, before it slowly lifted off her cushion. She watched as more of his dark red cheek became visible over the cradle his arms had made, and then he turned his face towards her and his eyes fluttered open and by Peach’s spotted boxers he was _ amazing _right now.

Her breath caught as she stared at him. His normally clear and stunning eyes were blown wide, the pupil taking up almost all the space, and they were darting around as if trying to see all of her at once. The little bit of blue that was still visible was enhanced by the red of his cheeks. And then her eyes dropped down when movement drew them to his lips, and she just caught the tip of his tongue darting back behind them before she got distracted by the way they glistened as he puffed small, quick breaths over her face.

Because he’d moved closer? Or had she moved closer to him?

She closed her eyes and leant back, licking her own lips again against how dry they suddenly felt because dammit Hannah no! She was not trying anything on him today! It was his _ birthday_! She was not going to do anything to make him uncomfortable if she could help it. Which meant this needed to stop.

She slid her fingers out of his hair, allowing herself one last stroke down his neck before resting her hand on the back of his shoulder, then opened her eyes and smiled at him brightly. She hoped it was more convincing than it felt, though from the way his eyes darted between her lips and eyes she wasn’t entirely sure it was. Then before she could second guess herself, she quickly moved in and kissed the end of his nose, then pulled back and leant away.

“Birthday kiss for the birthday boy,” she said, trying for cheerful and missing it, though she wasn’t sure what it did come out as with how her heart was pounding in her ears. She rolled backwards before he could react and potentially push her away and somehow got her feet under her when she fell off the couch, springing up to start backing away.

“Heh, sorry Arlo, that this gift wasn’t as good as what everyone else gave you earlier,” she started as she grabbed the bottom of her top and started to tug it down, rolling the edge between her fingers. “You just looked really stiff, and like you were in a lot of pain, and I didn’t want that for you, especially today. I, er, oh! I’ve got some red tea, if you want some of that? You love that stuff, let me go grab it!”

She walked out before he could answer, heading towards the kitchen and thankfully making it to the counter before her wobbly legs finally gave out on her. Because _ damn_. That was, he had been. ** _Damn!_ **

He’d been _ gorgeous _ like that. He’d looked so open, and kissable. And after how worked up she’d gotten from his movements and the noises and then the way he’d looked at her, she’d half convinced herself that he did in fact want her to lean in and kiss him. Kiss him in a different way than she had at any rate. But no. No, she was seeing what she wanted to see.

She pushed herself off the counter and opened her fridge, grabbing the bottle of cold red tea she’d made just for him, and a bottle of apple juice for herself, and swung the door shut. She walked back into the room and sat herself down on the opposite end of the couch to where he was now sitting up, bandana snug around his neck again as he finished pulling his jacket’s zip mid way up his chest, the cushion back in his lap. He was breathing slowly and steadily with his eyes closed, but opened them when the seats bounced under her and jostled him.

She held his tea out between them, and he blinked at it twice before taking it, a small, soft smile spreading over his lips as he met her gaze.

“Happy birthday, Arlo,” she chirped brightly, clinking her bottle against his. “I hope you have a fantastic year, and get everything you want from it.”

His lips twitched slightly as he lifted his drink to them, and his eyes seemed to sharpen slightly.

“Thanks. I hope I will too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small disclaimer to acknowledge that what Hannah is thinking about muscles and backrubs could be completely wrong, but it's what I remember from my friend who was studying physiotherapy, so... Sorry if it is? A_d


	18. Give It To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo has helped Hannah repair things at her workshop many times before with no issue. Today won’t be any different. Right?

September 16th, Monday 

“So then I just _ had _ to say something, because _ really_, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, you know?”

Arlo made a vague noise of agreement as he flipped the wrench again, completely focused on the way it spun through the air and smacked back into his hand. The way the light caught on the various reflective surfaces was fascinating, and completely captured his attention, not at all allowing it to wander to other interesting sights.

Sights such as Hannah laying on her assembly station, on her back, and half under a long haul bus.

Hannah on her back at the very edge of the assembly station, with one leg bent and her foot propped on the edge of the platform, the leg waving side to side as she talked to him. Her other leg hung off the edge and swung gently back and forth, drawing attention to the edges of her shorts which kept shifting further up her legs whenever either of them moved, while never quite moving back down.

Hannah on the assembly station while he stood on the ground next to it, grabbing her tools from her box and passing them to her, having to stand right next to her to do so and _ definitely _not looking at the band of skin he could see on her stomach where her top had also ridden up as she wriggled around to reach things underneath the vehicle.

And most definitely not thinking about how easy it would be to reach out and run his hands over her thighs, how she’d make that little gasp noise she always did when something surprised her. How he could tug her closer, out from under the bus, and see what sort of face she’d make. If she’d be the cool, sassy Hannah who flirted with him, or shy Hannah who blushed so prettily, or grumpy Hannah who was in the zone and wanted to finish the job, though he was sure she could be persuaded if everything he’d been thinking he was seeing lately, especially last night while she gave him his ‘extra present’, was right. And how she was at the perfect height to...

Yes. Flipping the wrench had his entire focus, he told himself as he grabbed the bottle of water they’d said they’d share and took a hasty gulp, running his tongue over the balm mark on the lip to see if it still tasted like her. And nearly moaned when he tasted a hint of peach that hadn’t been there before she’d drank.

“So Arlo, are you going to give it to me anytime soon or what?”

He spat the water back out, distracted enough to miss the next catch, knocking the handle instead and sending it spinning off course to land on his foot. He hissed and cursed through his splutters, wiping at his chin and clumsily settling the bottle on the platform, tipping it over when he pulled away.

“What?” he yelped, turning to look at her, and found her half twisted out from under the bus. The leg propped on the edge of the platform had tilted to the side as she pulled her upper body forward in the other direction, pulling her top even higher up on one side and revealing the start of her ribs, as her shorts were also pulled taught. He quickly looked to her face and found her staring at him with a curious, unidentifiable expression half hidden by shadows. 

“I said,” she repeated, slowly and clearly. “Are you going to give it to me anytime soon? Or would you prefer to just stare all day maybe?”

His mouth dropped open and tried to make sound, but his brain was having trouble deciding what exactly he should be saying. Because she had to know what position she was in, and she had to know what effect she’d been having on him lately with all her comments and over the top movements, even if she hadn’t caught the way he’d been looking at her body just now from under the bus. And there really weren’t many other ways he could take that other than the blatant offer it clearly was, which she _ had _ to know he couldn’t respond to right now, here in her yard, even if he desperately wanted to, though he supposed they could always go inside and--

“The wrench Arlo. Are you going to give me,” she paused, hand stretching out towards him to wriggle her fingers. “The wrench?”

The… wrench?

Oh. Right. The wrench. He bent down to snatch it back up, throwing his hand out for balance and realising his mistake a second too late as he heard that wonderful gasp. Because instead of leaning on the side of the platform, he’d grabbed Hannah’s leg.

Her long, smooth and tanned leg which dropped slightly as he leant on it, pulling it down and drawing his gaze along her skin from her leg under his hand to her thigh up to her--

“Shit Arlo! Your hand is freezing! Ok, forget the wrench, you obviously need warming up, get some blood pumping. Here, lemme just get out from under here so I can--”

“No, no that’s fine,” he said, standing up and pulling his hand back, clenching his fist and ruthlessly shoving down the temptation to see if the rest of her leg was as smooth. “You stay under there and finish fixing the bus. Here’s the wrench.” He placed it where she could reach it, then took a large step backwards. “I, erm, I’ll go get us something new to drink, since I spilled ours. Gotta stay hydrated.”

He didn’t wait for her to reply. He just spun on his heel and strode towards her front door, cursing under his breath as he flexed the fingers of his left hand in an attempt to rid himself of the memory of her skin--_her delicate, silky smooth skin_\--against his fingertips.

He let himself in and headed straight for her kitchen sink, turning it on and bending over to splash his face with the cold water. He rested his arms along the edge of the counter and stared at the water swirling down the drain. Because shit. That was, that was almost too much. He’d nearly forgotten himself, right there in her yard, where anyone walking past could see.

He closed his eyes, letting his head hang, and listened to the water bubble, allowing himself a few moments to think, to imagine, while he was alone.

He could have left his hand on her knee. He could have kept it there as he stood up again, spreading his fingers out and brushing against her thigh. He could have put the wrench down, next to her hip, then put his other hand on her other knee, bent up and already near his shoulder. He could have slid it down, along the outside of her leg, causing her to make all sorts of sounds just like that gasp from before. Damn, that gasp though, he was tempted to go back out and see if she’d do it again.

But yes, he’d slide his hand down, till it was at the top of her thigh, then move his other up to her hip, and then he could tug her forward, closer to the edge of the platform, closer to him, move her foot off the edge to dangle over the side so she was bracketing his hips, like she had been yesterday on his back. Or maybe he could lift her leg up, set it on his shoulder? She’d been at the perfect height and angle for that, on her platform. He could have kissed her knee, and let his hand stroke the back of her leg down to her stupidly short, tight shorts, and seen what sort of sounds she made when he touched her there. 

And then, then he could let his other hand start to move higher, across her stomach, maybe pushing up her top--

“Hey, are you feeling--shit! Arlo, what’s wrong?”

He snapped his head up, and damn, she was right next to him, eyes wide with concern and a hint of fear and why, oh, right, leaning over the sink which was still running, with wet hair dripping in his face. 

“No, I’m fine, nothing wrong, I just, er,” he tried to say, but she reached up and cupped his cheek, eyes searching his face and he trailed off because he just couldn’t think. All that training in how to handle stressful situations, gone. Vanished from his brain because of her.

She pursed her lips in thought, and he stared at them. And damn, he shouldn’t have let himself get lost in his thoughts just now, because it was getting very ha--very _ difficult _ to not think about her lips, and what they’d feel like, or taste like after he’d rubbed her pale lipbalm off.

She looked away, leaning around him to turn off the tap and brushing against his arm and he stood up, taking a step back and turning slightly away from her, because he was sure if she happened to look down, she’d notice his very obvious problem. He started to count to ten, maybe twenty, when he heard her shift around, make a small huff, and then he gasped as she grabbed his arm and pulled him sideways.

He stumbled, hand shooting out to catch on to the counter, right next to her hip, because that huff had been her jumping up on it. He was standing between her legs, and by Peach, what was she doing?

The hand she’d pulled his arm with was trailing upwards, and settled on the back of his neck. Her other had somehow gone to his head, and was pushing his hair out of his face, her thumb making sweeping motions against his forehead. Her beautiful eyes, the almost golden brown flecks sparkling in the afternoon light filling the room, were darting all over his face, and he swallowed when he saw them linger on his lips for a breath too long. His own felt dry, and he licked them, but she’d looked back up at his eyes and missed it, or maybe not, from the light pink that was starting to dust her cheeks, almost hidden by the smudges of dirt from her work under the bus.

Was, was this it? Had he been right all along, and she did feel something for him? 

He shifted, his hand not already on the counter moving by itself to settle next to her other hip, his thumb barely touching the side of her shorts. He leant in, slowly moving his face towards her, carefully watching her to see if she wanted this, if this was ok. And almost whined as he felt the hand on the back of his head start to tug him closer.

He took one last look at her lips, slightly parted and glistening as she breathed shallowly, before he let his eyes slide shut. And he let her fingers guide him, closer, closer…

Until her forehead bumped against his, their noses pressing together, and he stopped breathing. Because he could feel her breath on his lips, but she wasn’t moving her head, wasn’t moving her nose out of the way and bringing him down to meet her, so what…

“Well, you don’t seem to be running a fever at least, but I really don’t like how red you are,” she said, pulling away from him, and he opened his eyes when her hand moved from his hair to his cheek, and her other started to stroke the back of his neck, keeping him leaning over her, between her legs.

He stared, wondering if this was yet more of her teasing, but no. No, she was concerned about him. Flustered, yes, but mostly concerned. And his heart thumped heavily in his chest, because shit. She cared. She cared so much about him. It was as plain to see as the clouds in the sky how much she cared for him. But right now, he didn’t want her to care. He wanted her to _ want _ him. He wanted her to _ see _him. He wanted her to look at him the way she did sometimes, when she thought he wasn’t watching her. 

The way he’d been dreaming about her looking at him for months now. The way she looked in his dreams right before she kissed him, and apologised for laughing back on the beach when he’d tried to flirt.

But she wasn’t looking at him like that. She was concerned, and worried, and there was nothing in her face to say this was a joke, to say she was winding him up, to say she wanted him like he’d been thinking. Imagining. Hoping.

He stood up, gently pulling out of her grip, and turned around, leaning back against the counter and rubbing his face. Knowing he was still between her legs, but hoping the fact he couldn’t see her, wasn’t facing her, would help. Because despite everything, he still wanted to be near her, even now. 

But that then meant he was still close enough for her to wrap her arms around, and he had to shove down the panicked laugh that tried to bubble up as her hands settled on his stomach.

“You’re kinda scaring me. Do you need to sit down? Or maybe lay down? My bed’s free if you want to nap. No, wait, you didn’t want to get in my bed,” she muttered quietly, but still loud enough for him to hear as her fingers grabbed fistfulls of his top. “I can go clear off the couch?”

He could feel the start of a headache forming, because damn. What was he meant to say to that? That of course he wanted to get in her bed, but only if she was already there waiting for him?

But then again, she’d just given him the perfect excuse to leave. 

“Actually, I think I’d better go. I’ll stop at the clinic on my way back to the Corps, ok? You go ahead and go back to fixing the bus.”

He lay a hand on her wrist, trying to make her let go, but instead her arms tensed and she pulled him backwards, her hands sliding higher up to lay flat against his chest, and _ shit _. He could feel all of her, pressing against him as she shifted forward, her feet moving round to rest on the front of his legs and her heels settled against his inner thighs.

“I’m worried about you, you dumb panbat! Screw the damn bus!” she half shouted into the back of his shoulder.

He let out a bark of laughter at her choice of words, which startled her slightly from the way she jumped. He slapped his hand over his mouth, to stop more slipping out, and felt his eyes start to tear up because this was all just too much. The urge to tell her to not screw the bus, screw him instead was, was too much.

He tapped her hand this time, and she let go as if burned, and he took the opportunity to step away from her. He moved his hand from his mouth to his hair, trying to breathe deeply and calm himself, if only so he could get through leaving. Keeping his body facing away from her, he looked over his shoulder from the corner of his eye, trying to smile at least semi convincingly.

“Stop worrying. That’s my job. Remember to take a drink back out with you, and don’t stay out too long, even if you are in the shade. I’ll see you later,” he cut himself off, not trusting himself to call her Hot Stuff as he felt right now, and walked out of her house into the sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **   
[Gifts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/52391602)   
**
> 
> Wherever you are in the world and whatever you're celebrating, here's hoping you're having a good time <3 
> 
> Also! Just to warn you all now! The chapter that's meant to come out on the 30th (chapter 20) has needed a few edits because of "reasons", and then a few chapters after that have then needed tweaking too. But because of various circumstances, we haven't got around to finalising them fully. So as of now (24th) I'm not sure if it'll be out on time, or delayed a little. So, potential apologies? But I can promise, the wait will be worth it ^_~


	19. Boost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah isn’t quite tall enough to reach the shut off mechanism in Amber Island cave, and doesn’t have time to fetch a ladder. Good thing Arlo just showed up.

October 4th, Friday 

Hannah glared at the broken ghost-shut-off mechanism she’d installed high on the wall out of the way where no one should have been able to get to it, thinking of all the things she’d like to do to Jack and Toby when she got back to town. She’d make sure they _ never _ messed around with the systems she’d put in the cave _ ever _again. 

She stepped forward, trying to check it from a different angle while still staying in the puddle of light spilling in from outside. It looked like it would be an easy enough fix thankfully, only needing a little work here and nothing further into the cave. Easy enough. ** _If_ ** she could get to it. She started muttering curses as she looked around the entry area, eyeing up the table, then the various decorations and props, but not seeing anything sturdy enough to stand on that she could move.

She did catch sight of Arlo though, walking in through the entrance. He was haloed by the light from outside, looking amazing with his jacket hanging open and sleeves pushed up, and an old insulated flask swinging from one ungloved hand. Ungloved because he'd taken them off for some reason while looking after her last Friday, and then left those wonderfully soft fingerless gloves of his in her bathroom, and she honestly kept forgetting to bring them with her to give back. 

But then she felt her cheeks start to burn like they had every other time she’d seen him since Sam had started giving her _ gifts_. Because despite Sam's promise that what she'd given at the Round table would be it, her friend kept sneaking her more at the most inopportune times. Like today, when Sam had slipped one into her back pocket as they hugged goodbye at the Corps before Hannah rushed off to see what Gale wanted, that was burning a hole in her awareness because there was nowhere else on herself she could move it to until she got home. And looking at Arlo, getting closer with his easy smile, bare forearms, and his broad chest that looked divine and touchable in his close fitting t-shirt, and she couldn't help but think things.

But then her eyes were drawn to his shoulders as he rolled them. His strong, solid shoulders. And she felt a smile start as an idea formed.

“Hey Hot Stuff, I came as soon as I got your message. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, so I brought this,” Arlo said, holding up the hand with the flask and grinning. “Do you know what went wrong, and how long it might take you to fix whatever broke? Because… I should...” He trailed off, stopping a few feet away to eye her warily. “Why, why are you looking at me like that?”

She shrugged, making herself try to relax and not fidget as she started imagining what was likely about to happen.

“It looks like Jack and Toby messed with my shut off system, but it should be an easy fix. Just as soon as I can reach it.”

He blinked, relaxing only slightly as he quickly looked around the cave, and she saw the moment he came to the same conclusion she had. She watched his face, fascinated, as his eyes bounced from her, to the broken parts, back to her, to the nearby rocks, back to her again and scanning down to her legs, before he sighed and closed his eyes, a hand going up to rub at them.

“You want me to go fetch you a ladder then?” he asked, almost hopefully, and he sighed again when she made a negative noise and shook her head, rubbing her arms and shifting on her feet as her idea began to look more and more likely.

“Gale wanted this fixed before four, so it’s open again before the evening crowd. I don’t have time to go back to town and get anything.”

He sighed a third time, hand dropping to cover his mouth and cheeks as he looked at her. “I guess I’d better help you reach it safely then, hadn’t I? Come on.”

She followed him to the pile of rocks, and climbed up it as he half sat down and put the bottle of what she assumed was red tea on the floor, keeping one of her hands on the wall. She swung one leg onto his shoulder, then gripped his offered hand gratefully to steady herself as she swung the other into place, trying not to squeeze him any more than she had to or get distracted by his warm palm. A sudden moment of clarity hit her, as the edge of his beard brushed the inside of her thigh next to the edge of her shorts, that this was actually going to be a lot more difficult than she’d planned, given how good it already felt. But it was too late now, because he’d wrapped his hand around her knee and was standing up and holy hairballs this was something else.

Her hands flailed for a moment as she struggled to keep her balance before settling on the top of his head, letting out an embarrassing whimper as he swayed beneath her before steadying himself with a deep breath. A breath that somehow sent shivers along her back and made her want things and _ shit shit shit_.

His hand moved from her knee to her thigh, his bare skin scorching her where he gripped, and then his other mirrored it and he was walking across the space back to the wall and just what was she meant to be doing anyway? Oh, right, fixing the shut off mechanism.

She looked up, glad she was finally able to reach it now and get to work. Only, she couldn’t. He wasn’t standing close enough. Maybe if she leant forward, but no. That would be dangerous. An intrusive whisper pushed its way to the front of her thoughts, sending another shiver through her body because right now? Right now she was completely at his mercy. She was relying on him to keep her safe, and needed to actually ask him to move her around, and that little part of her she’d had to ignore for so long now perked up and paid attention because it _ liked _ that. It _ liked _ that idea of Arlo being completely in charge of her. But she made herself ruthlessly squash that thought and push it away because job! Work! Fantasize later!

“Can you, er, can you step a bit closer please?” she tried, her voice catching and squeaking and no, no she wouldn’t get embarrassed, this was fine! She was a builder and professional and the way his shoulders moved as he stepped forward or the way his fingers tightened on her skin weren’t at all distracting,_ nope_.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them and looked up, pleased that she was now close enough to reach the problem. Yes, simple fix. She already had everything she needed and… What was he doing?

She froze, hand on her belt next to the wrench as she slowly let her eyes drop down to look at his fingers. His fingers that were kneading at her thighs like Pinky sometimes did to the chairs in the Round Table while his thumb rubbed wide circles. What?

“So! Arlo!” she said, and was startled when he jumped slightly, hands moving to her knees and gripping her there, his head tilting back slightly and making his hair brush against her legs. She wasn’t disappointed, nope, not at all. “What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon, after I’ve finished here I mean?”

“Uh, I have a patrol with Remy. There have been several sightings of something wandering around the edge of the wastelands, and some of the monsters have been more worked up than usual recently, so we’re going to head up to WOW Industries and start out from--”

Hannah nodded, and let out a breath as his voice washed over her, settling firmly into Builder mode. Her hands moved on autopilot as she poked and prodded at things, and worked the misaligned gear out with a clang. She huffed as she noticed something further back was also shifted, and waited for a pause in Arlo’s words to interrupt.

“Can you take another step forward? I can’t quite reach this other bit.”

“Er, no, not really?”

She blinked, and looked down, and saw how close they were to the wall. Well damn. How else could she...? Unless…?

“Arlo, I need you to give me a boost, if you can?”

He froze for an instant, and then his head was tilting up so he could look at her and his hair brushed along her thigh in a wonderful way and_ shit Hannah don’t think about it _ but then the look on his face drove all thoughts out her head and this wasn’t fair.

“Boost?” He sounded almost as flustered as she felt, which had to be ridiculous, right?

“Yeah. I can’t reach the bit I need to from here, so if I can kneel on your shoulder, and you give me a boost for my foot?” she squeaked, feeling breathless for some reason.

“Right, right. Erm, ok.”

He let go of her legs and linked his fingers together in front of him, and she shifted herself round to settle her foot in his grip. Then carefully leaning forward against the wall, she slowly moved her weight to that foot, and went from sitting on his shoulder to kneeling, much like she had with Oaks back during the thing with Mali. Only this time, instead of having Oaks head on the outside of her leg, Arlo’s face firmly pressed against the inside of her thigh.

And by the light this was torture. His beard gently scratched the inside of her knee, and his warm breath brushed over her skin in quickening pants and she reached up to start working the pieces back into place as quickly as she could.

“So, you were saying?”

“Huh?” he said, sounding strange and turning his head away from her leg after a quick, far too long and brief touch of his lips to her skin. She heard herself let out a breathy gasp and quickly bit down on her bottom lip in a desperate attempt to stop herself from making sounds she wouldn’t be able to explain away. Holy freaking shit.

“You were talking about...” She paused, desperately trying to remember. “About patrols.”

“Yes! Patrols! With Remy!”

She grabbed onto the wall in front of her as he shuffled on his feet, trying to keep steady. She hissed in pain when her fingers caught on a sharp edge as he moved again, and considered yelling at him, but his cheek was resting against her thigh and she could feel his jaw move as he talked and _ no_, she wasn’t going to think about it. She focused back on the smaller gear. 

She could feel it wasn’t broken, just knocked out of alignment. Some gentle prodding with her wrench and, yes! Back in place already. Which just left getting this other one and, and, and what was he doing now?

She looked down and her fingers scrabbled against the wall as her knees felt weak. All she could see was the top of his head as he leant his face against her leg. She could still feel his jaw moving, but now his breath was sending goosebumps all over with every word and she would swear she could feel his eyelashes fluttering and sweet panbats what had she done to deserve this?

She might have made a noise as she looked up, but the clang as she hit the gear against the placement too violently echoed around them, making her flinch and him jump, his head tilting back and _ shit no not the time_. Gritting her teeth she ignored everything, ignored the feel of him and his concerned words and just focused on the job. There was only the job. Because if she asked him to put her down right now to catch her breath she was not getting back up and then the caves wouldn’t get fixed in time and Gale would be disappointed and there it went!

The gear clicked back into place with a final hit of the wrench and she sighed shakily, before making the horrible mistake of looking down.

Looking down and finding Arlo looking up, cheek pressed to her leg where the shorts started, and when had he moved so far up? Oh, he was lowering her, right, she should probably start getting down.

Only, she noticed how dark and wide his eyes were as he took a long, slow breath, his nose pressed to her leg and moving slowly higher as he lowered her, and her knees gave out on her completely. She yelped as she started to fall, hand trying to get a grip back on the wall but finding nothing to hold, and then one of his hands under her feet had let go and was up on her back and she was basically sitting on his shoulder, right next to his face with her legs on either side of his head, and how in the world was he so damn strong? And he’d twisted them round so her back was to the wall and thank Peach she had some support but then he kept twisting and his face, his face was--

She yelped again, and tried to shift backward, to put some distance between them, only for the sound to turn into a gasped moan at the friction, and she heard him breathe a curse and then he’d dropped to his knees and her foot found the floor and she was staggering, practically leaping off of him and leaning back against the wall panting because shit, shit why did she do that? Why did she have to make it weird?

“Ah, thanks Arlo! You’re a real life saver. Just, uh, just let me…” She stopped, trying to think what it was she needed to do. Watching him as he knelt on the floor, his hand covering his mouth as he stared up at her with those damned wide eyes. Eyes that pinned her to the spot and made it difficult to breathe as he refused to look away while he stood up, and took the two steps between them to lean over her, his eyes scanning her whole face, and she had no idea what he was looking for but she wanted to give whatever it was to him, and--

He reached past her, and lifted his arm to reach up and pull the lever, and she blinked at the sound of gears turning and metal moving and the squeak and whir of the ghosts beginning to move on their tracks again.

“Guess the job’s done?” he asked, voice low and gravelly and sending even more shivers across her body, and she couldn’t form the words so she just nodded tightly.

“Good. I’ll go tell Gale. Drink your tea Hot Stuff, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And as he turned and walked away, she watched him. Watched him as he strolled across the open space and disappeared into the glow of outside. And only when she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, did she allow herself to slowly slide down the wall.

Because what the hell was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> So like I said, stuff and life happened (tis the season and all) and right now it's looking like chapter 20 won't be ready to go up on the 30th like it should.  
We will do our best to get it out to you as soon as we can, but many apologies for the delay, and we appreciate your patience and understanding.  
Love, hugs, and best wishes for the new year!!! A_d


	20. Tipping Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innocent thrills turn into something a lot more risque when Hannah finds new courage and Arlo can’t resist playing along.

October 5th, Saturday 

Arlo tried not to smile as he took another pull of Django’s latest attempt at making his own alcohol while Hannah laughed, bouncing her legs over his as she excitedly told him about, about something that her ducks had done to her chickens? Or was it the other way round? Fuck, he'd lost track at this point. After three hours of sitting on the path to the Church, drinking _ whatever _ this was, he wasn't really sure what was going on. Which wasn't actually great he knew. He honestly didn't think he'd ever felt this relaxed and out of it before.

But sitting here, with Hannah pulled close to his side, snuggling into him with his arm and jacket wrapped safely around her. With her mostly bare legs thrown over his since she was _ still _wearing her stupidly short shorts despite the change in season. Laughing and joking with her. He really couldn't make himself care much. Not even when she took the bottle from him and switched it to the hand she had wrapped around his back so that she could grab his now free hand and settle it back on her thigh while grinning up at him, eyebrows raised. 

It had surprised him when she’d done it the first time; as had the way she whispered “For the warmth,” while looking up at him from beneath lowered, fluttering lashes when he’d tried to pull his hand back. But he’d then given in to her request rather quickly.

Because actually, it didn’t matter to him if this was part of her winding him up, or if this was strictly platonic in her mind. It didn’t even matter if--and he knew it was a very big and unlikely if--she was actually flirting, and she wanted him to touch her, feel her, maybe let his fingers brush over even more of her skin like he’d allowed himself to do every now and then which had sparked shivers which ran through her whole body.

Because he wasn’t going to turn down the chance to touch her like this. Not after wanting to for so long. He just needed to make sure he wasn’t as inappropriate as he’d been yesterday.

Yesterday. Standing in Amber Cave with her sitting on his shoulders. Her thighs bracketing his face, warming his cheeks and his palms as he’d held on to her. Having to stand so still while she moved and shifted above him, and talked to him in that breathless way, between her making all sorts of noises. And then having to hold her up, with his face pressing into her leg. With all that soft, smooth skin _ right there_, that he hadn’t really been able to fully enjoy because of his need to keep her safe.

And then, and then lowering her when she’d finished, his face getting higher up her leg, closer and closer to that sweet spot before he’d had to lift his arm to catch her. And the way she’d gasped and squirmed and shit, no, think of something else.

"You really need to think about buying trousers you know," he told her, even as he started to rub his bare hand along the outside of her leg, trying to reach all of the cool, soft skin it was safe to touch. He _ really _ needed to work out where his gloves had disappeared to, or ask Carol to make a new pair. "Portia can get extremely cold and miserable in Winter." 

"Hmm, yeah, maybe," she acknowledged, switching the bottle back to her other hand again and taking a long sip. "But I'm not too worried. I mean, I’m sure you can think of all sorts of ways to help me warm up if I need you to, right? You’ll take care of me, however I need it?"

He snorted, shaking his head as he looked away from her out over the view. She was more than likely winding him up, he reminded himself. This was all part of whatever game she was still playing. She didn't mean it, at least not like that. As much as he desperately wanted her to, she didn’t mean it. She'd been saying more and more outrageous things all evening, and getting even more touchy feely than usual, which further cemented the idea that she wasn't quite herself right now. 

Which wasn't surprising, given that she'd started drinking before he'd managed to meet her. Of the three bottles they'd shared this evening, at least a third of the first had been drunk entirely by her.

Which was why he’d started playing along with her halfway through their second bottle, sneaking in comments and suggestions and innuendos where he could--some of which had sailed over her head, and some she’d seemed to catch--since he doubted she'd remember any of this tomorrow anyway. 

"Can’t think of why I wouldn’t. I'll always be happy to take care of you, anytime, anywhere, any _ way _ you want it."

He watched her carefully when she pulled back to stare at him in shock, her mouth dropped open. And then just like every other time he’d shot back with something overly obvious during the evening, he didn’t even try to stop his smile when colour burst across her cheeks. 

Because that was what he’d been hoping for. He’d managed to spark that flustered look on her several times throughout the evening, and was trying to burn it into his memory to revisit later. He'd forgotten just how much he loved seeing her like this. It had been far, far too long since he’d managed to get her truly worked up with something he’d deliberately said, and not simply because of things said and touches made by accident.

The low chuckle that rumbled from his chest surprised them both, going from the way her fingers at his side twitched, and he decided to push a little further. He gently held her hand as he brought the bottle to his mouth, and kept eye contact as he tipped it for a quick mouthful. Her lipbalm had worn off early in the evening, and now, now the bottle tasted uniquely of _ her _ every time he drank, and he slowly licked his lips when he lowered it again to enjoy it while she watched. The way she licked her own lips, her eyes focused on his, made the temptation to skip the glass and experience the flavour first hand start to feel overwhelming.

"I'm going to hold you to that," she murmured, lower and more husky than usual, which had a shiver running up his back because fuck. Her voice like that was, fuck. 

He looked down at Hannah as she rested her cheek back on his shoulder, then tilted her head up so her nose brushed against his for an instant, and he licked his lips again when her warm, alcohol laden breath puffed against him before he pulled back. Her eyes danced and sparkled under lowered lashes when she met his gaze, and it took more effort than it should to organise his thoughts.

Letting her pull the bottle down to rest against his chest, feeling her fingers press into his where he was still loosely holding onto her, he wondered what she was going to do next. But then she quickly turned her face away and sneezed into her shoulder, and he sighed heavily while bumping his nose into her hair.

“Ok. Time to leave I think. That’s the third time you’ve sneezed in the last five minutes.”

“Awwww, but Arlo,” Hannah whined, drawing his name out in a way that made something in his stomach coil pleasantly. “I’m so warm and comfy right now. I don’t want to move. Can’t you just hold me closer? Start on that warming me up right now?”

The hand she had wrapped around his back under his jacket firmed for a moment, and he felt her fingers playing with the edge of his t-shirt again, barely brushing against the skin of his side. And he made himself look away from her and focus on the sky over Sophie’s farm and the distant harbour painted vibrantly by the last bursts of sunset.

“I’m holding you as close as I can without letting you climb on my lap, and that is _ not _ happening while we’re sitting over a drop like this. You can warm up at home. So c’mon, up.”

He ignored her smirk and wriggling eyebrows as he carefully pushed her off him and shifted away and back, climbing to his feet and steadying himself before he could wobble. 

“So I can climb in your lap when we _ aren’t _ sitting over a drop then?” she purred, brows wriggling in an utterly ridiculous, adorable way while she shifted round, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the path instead of getting up like he’d told her. “Because you let me sit on your shoulders yesterday, remember?”

He huffed with amusement. Because of all the questions she could ask.

“Hmm, you can, but it’ll cost you.” He paused while her head snapped round to face him, wide eyes staring up at him and making that warm pleasant feeling in his stomach start up again.

“Your first ride was free, but if you want to go again I’ll have to charge. And my lap is _ far _ more expensive than my shoulders, since it has better, hmmm, perks and benefits? So maybe if you buy me dinner first and ask very, very nicely, I’ll think about it,” he teased, letting his voice drop to the tone she liked and winking at her. He laughed loudly at the gobsmacked look that settled over her face, before she smirked up at him even as her cheeks darkened further. And if that wasn’t the most perfect, beautiful sight he’d seen all week. In some ways it was even better than how she’d looked from between her legs yesterday.

Sitting below him and looking up at him with wide, dark, mischievous eyes, with her lips twitching up, wet and shining from the alcohol and looking oh, so tantalizing. He wanted nothing more than to crouch back down and kiss her stupid, go ahead and experience her first hand like he’d already been thinking, see if tasting the alcohol straight off her skin changed anything, like it had with the cream that one time. But no. No, he couldn’t.

“Come on Hot Stuff,” he said before she could open her mouth and probably say something really outrageous that he _ knew _ she wouldn't mean. “I need to get you home so _ I _ can go home and--”

He cut himself off with a cough, regretting the direction his mouth had gone without his permission because damn. He’d specifically wanted to _ not _ give her any opportunities for more jokes or innuendos.

“Can go home and…?” Hannah asked, and by the light, the way the words rolled off her tongue sounded far too sultry and suggestive for him to be able to handle right now. But he needed to try. 

“Shower.” He lifted a brow as a thought occurred to him, and sniffed loudly, tipping his head back to peer down his nose at her. “I need to wash my hair and it needs plenty of time to dry before I sleep.”

The giggles that bubbled out between her lips sounded both musical and magical to his ears, even if it was sort of directed at him. Because he knew that this laugh, this laugh right now, wasn’t malicious. Because he’d deliberately set himself up for and invited this laugh from her.

He truly loved seeing her so carefree and relaxed, like she was lit up from the inside and spilling all that light and joy and wonder into the world for others to enjoy. And the feeling he got when he knew that he was the reason for it was, was something else. It more than made up for all her other teasing. Made his decision to try and stay by her side despite how much it hurt sometimes worth it.

“Aaaah, I see. Yes,” she drawled, leaning back on her hand and kicking her feet out over the drop while she looked up at him. Her eyes twinkled like the stars slowly appearing in the sky above them as she took another quick swig of the drink, eyes settling on his hair. “Yes I remember why you’d need time to do that. Though I really did love the fried llama look on you. You were so fluffy and soft. I could have run my hands through your hair for hours...”

_ And I would have happily let you, along with any other of my hair you wanted to feel, _ he nearly let slip, but his teeth sinking into his tongue thankfully prevented him from complete humiliation.

“Maybe next time,” he murmured back lowly instead, reaching down and snagging the bottle from her when she raised it to her lips again, and lifted it to his own. The rest of, _ whatever _ it was, burned slightly as he gulped it down, and he coughed when he finally pulled it away. Screwing up his nose as he scraped his tongue against his teeth, he eyed the dribble of liquid settling back at the bottom. It hadn’t seemed so strong while he’d been taking his time, but all at once like that was rough. But still. She now had no excuse to sit there and dawdle.

He smiled when she finally reached for the hand he was holding out to her, her lip pouting out in pretend huffiness while she wrapped her fingers around his in a soft caress of skin on skin. But then she was pulling down and he set himself and pulled as well, lifting her up and sideways and laughing quietly when she stumbled and fell into him.

“You ok?”

“Mmmmmmm,” she hummed, leaning heavily against him and rubbing her cheek on his chest, and he couldn’t stop the shiver shaking his whole body when her lips brushed dangerously close to his nipple through his thin t-shirt. She didn’t seem to notice though, since her head tilted back and he had the perfect view of her lashes fluttering over her eyes, before lifting halfway so she could stare up at him with a dark, hazy look. 

“‘M fine. Think I might need help getting home though. Wanna walk me home? Make sure I don’t fall somewhere.”

“I was already planning to, so sure,” he said with a small laugh, his arms moving automatically as she turned against him to support her by the elbows as she stumbled and leaned more heavily on him.

“Oh good,” she murmured, and some part of his brain went on guard at her tone, which had dropped to a soft and silky purr. “And then when we get there, I was thinking that maybe you could come inside a while. See, I’ve got another bottle from Django in my fridge we could share. We can curl up on my couch together, for warmth I mean. And our super fun evening doesn’t have to stop.”

That, that didn’t sound so bad. Not really. Not compared to some of the things she’d been saying, at any rate. He probably shouldn’t, but then again--

“I mean, you wanted to shower, right? You can always shower at mine, rather than walking all the way back through town in the cold. I’ve got a nice big shower, with a huge water heater, so it’ll be a lovely, _ hot _shower.”

Her hands slid around his back underneath his jacket to the edge of his t-shirt, and her fingers started to tug it up bit by bit, until she was stroking long, slow stripes up and down his skin. 

“So what do you say Arlo?” she whispered, tipping her head up to rub her nose along the underside of his jaw, her warm breath puffing over his throat. “Want to come home with me and warm up a little with me?”

He let his eyes slide shut as he started to imagine how nice it would be, to let the evening play out like she was saying. He could go in, when he got to hers. He could have an actually hot shower, instead of the passably warm one he would get back at the Corps. He could sit with her on the couch, let her snuggle close wrapped in a blanket. He could spend more time with her, indulge in a little bit more of this easy banter and relaxed atmosphere they’d had tonight. And then, maybe, he could--

“I’d be right there, to help you in the shower and get you all clean. I’d be _ happy _to help you scrub your back and shoulders. Maybe your legs too, so you don’t need to bend down so far. And then I could tuck you in my lovely, big bed next to me. I can pull the covers up and kiss you goodnight before I get in next to you. And then I could kiss you some more, if you feel like it.”

\--he could be the gentleman he needed to be and get her home safely, is what he could do.

Because she was clearly a lot more drunk than he’d thought, he scolded himself when she tried to pull herself up him and smirked. She was drunk and seeing how far she could push in an attempt to wind him up.

Coughing a few times to clear his throat, he dragged his eyes away from her with effort, and then kept his head high as he pulled her hands free and turned her in front of him, leaving his arm settled around her waist when she wobbled despite having her back pressed to his chest. The way she still wasn’t steady with most of her weight leaning against him however, didn’t give much hope for this being a smooth trip home.

“As wonderful as that all sounds,” he growled in her hair above her ear, wishing with everything in him that he could let himself just go with it. “Some other time perhaps. Like I said, I need to get back.”

“Mmmm, yes,” she said with a breathy sigh when he quickly bent to grab the bag with the empty bottles, then got them moving. He let his fingers brush over the exposed skin of her waist where he top had rolled up when he held her tighter, and tried to ignore the way her entire body seemed to be setting his on fire where they touched as she pressed into him. 

“But what if you didn’t? Like I said, you’re welcome to stay at mine. Just think about it Arlo. Sleeping in my bed. My warm body to curl around. My arms holding you close. Not walking home means you’d shower sooner, so your hair would dry sooner, so you could curl up in bed with me that much sooner too.”

No. No he most definitely couldn’t. He _ knew _ he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. One of those.

“You could come inside Arlo,” she murmured as they reached the end of the path by Ruin One. “I’ve been practising all those knots you and Sam have taught me, and I’ve been wanting to show them off.”

He froze, rocking on his feet as her words sunk into his brain. The knots that he and Sam had taught her. The, the knots for tying people up?

“I’ve got real good at some of them you know. And if you stay a while, I’m sure we can tie all sorts of knots together,” she purred lowly, as if sensing he was wavering. “Some on me, some on you. I’ve been practising on my bed posts so far, but I think I might be ready to move on to people.”

He could only stare at her when she lifted one of her arms to hold her hand up level with her head, rolling it while she smiled at him lazily.

“I’ve been wondering how they’ll feel, you know? Wondering if they’ll live up to my expectations. And while I’m pretty sure I could tie them on myself at this point, it would be so much better if there was someone there to double check. Make sure I’m doing things right. Not to mention how nice it’d be, if there was someone there to show them off to, don’t you think?” 

His eyes drifted from her face to her beautiful, slender, sadly unadorned wrist when she rolled it again. Which, holy fucking shit, he could so very easily imagine a rope tied round right now, like she was saying. And the thought was wonderful. Oh, _ so _ wonderful. Going back with her, and sitting there watching her tie that hemp rope around some part of herself. And then moving closer, and tying her wrists like she was suggesting.

He hummed thoughtfully at the picture she painted in his mind, then shook his head when he stumbled and nearly pulled them both over. Damnit. He couldn’t allow himself to think about things like that right now. Not with how unsteady they both already were. She was relying on him to get her home! And, and because she was drunk, and this all wasn’t fair!

Gritting his teeth, he made himself half tune out the rest of what she was saying as he urged her towards the gap next to the cafe, instead of walking through the plaza where he could see people still milling around. What he was sure were more outrageous flirts, innuendos, and outright offers fell from her lips that he couldn’t, that he _ wouldn’t _ think about right now. Only hum distractedly in what he hoped were the right places, and seemed to be by the way she kept talking.

He pushed her gate open when they reached it, breathing a sigh of relief that he’d got her this far without mishap. He gently held her elbow and pulled her closer to his side when she stumbled, still laughing, and glanced down to see some of her supplies dotted over the floor. Damn. Wasn’t safe for him to leave her here then, he really was going to need to walk her to her door.

“You really are my knight in shiny armour, you know that?” she drawled as they got closer to her home, twisting round to try and look up at him. And he had to pull her roughly against his chest when she would have otherwise fallen back onto one of her machines. “You’re so good to me, and I wish there was some way you’d let me pay you back. You sure you don’t want to come in a while? It really is such a long walk back up to your room, and my nice, warm house is right here. It’s all soft, and full of so many nice things I know you like...”

Her hands slid up his arms, heading for his shoulders, and--

And he probably shouldn’t let her, but then again, where was the harm in a hug, really? He was allowed to indulge this much, surely?

So he let her slide her hands up around his neck, and let his own settle around her waist, sliding around her back and pulling her close against him. Smiling gently at her while he lowered his head. Ignoring her wide eyes, her pouty lip that was dropped open and glistening from the tongue swipe she’d just finished, the tilt of her head, and the way her breathing was getting faster. He bumped his nose into her hair and started to nuzzle where he could. Made difficult by the way she seemed to be trying to look up at him.

“I told you Hot Stuff, I need to go home and wash my hair.”

“I said I could help you wash it here,” she purred into the pause he took for breath, and he rolled his eyes before pushing on slightly louder over her.

“And as much as I’d _ love _ to come in and spend more time with you, I think you’ve had a little too much tonight, and aren’t entirely yourself, hmm?”

Because she was drunk, and not in control, and he wasn’t entirely sure of his own. And he had no way of knowing if this was more of her winding him up and playing games with him, and if she’d then regret everything in the morning, and he couldn’t risk it. He, he couldn’t risk losing her over something so stupid and easily preventable like this.

“Goodnight Hannah. You are most definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow, so make sure you drink some water before you try to sleep, ok? Please?”

He reached up to untangle her hands from around his neck, then slid the bag of empty bottles from his arm to hers as he released her, and let his lips ghost against her temple in as much of a kiss as he would allow himself to give, though nowhere even close to the one he wanted to, before stepping back far enough to make it obvious that he would _ not _ be coming inside with her. She closed her mouth to pout at him more fully when she finally realised what he was doing, then she sighed heavily, and turned to her door.

“I didn’t drink all that much, but I will you fuss pot, don’t worry. Night night Arlo. I'll just be here, practising those knots all by myself in my bedroom, if you decide to change your mind.”

He managed to wait until the door clicked shut behind her before he lifted his fist to his mouth and bit down, hard, on the edge of his finger.

He allowed himself five slow, deep breaths. Focusing on the pain and thoughts of how he wouldn’t even be able to have a warm shower when he got back, it’d have to be cold damn her, before he made himself turn and start the long walk home. With nothing to distract him from the rampaging thoughts she'd just planted.

Because he would be having _ all sorts _ of thoughts about her all damn night now, he was certain. 

* * *

Hannah wobbled on her tip toes as she peered out the window next to the door, trying to keep Arlo in sight as long as possible. He’d stood on her porch long enough for her to wonder if maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe, maybe all the hints she’d been dropping had finally found their mark? Maybe it had finally filtered into his brain that she was interested, that she wanted him to come join her? Especially since he’d been actually flirting back for a fair bit of the evening, easily missed at first, but then at the end, oh boy.

And wasn’t that just a treat, hearing him say all sorts of things she’d thought she’d only hear in her dreams, that sounded even better in his low, husky, toe curling voice than she’d ever imagined they might. The playful quips and subtle suggestions had been everything she ever could have hoped for, and then some. And the way his hands had smoothed over her legs, occasionally straying to areas other than her outer thigh. His fingers curling round to brush the underside, or his thumb swiping down into the dip just below her hemline where her legs met...

But no. No, he was walking away. Hands shoved in his jacket pockets it looked like, pulling the fabric tight across his back and making his glorious shoulders stand out underneath it, and highlighting the sway of his hips as he walked up the path towards the town gate where he--

Where he’d stopped. Where he’d spun around to face her house again. Where he was standing, still as a statue, as his hands left his jacket and went to his hair, pushing through it and smoothing it back and leaving bits sticking up as he twisted in place and was he, was he thinking about coming back? Was he coming back here, to take her up on her offer after all?

She could almost hear his frustrated growl as his hands pulled free then swung angrily down to his sides, clenched into fists. And he, had he really just stamped his foot as he turned and disappeared under the archway? Or was that a trick of the light and her eyes and wishful thinking?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was the stupid, idiotic, ditzy, dumb, fluff brained _ panbat _ had completely missed her setting herself out there for him yet _ again _! Only not, because he'd been flirting back, so he must have realised, on some level, right?

She pushed herself off the door and stumbled to her couch, grabbing the first cushion there and holding it to her face so she could scream her frustrations out. Long, loud, wordless screams as she bounced on her toes because Peach fucking damnit, she was so damned horny she didn’t even know what to do with herself right now! There was no way she’d be able to sleep anytime soon because of, because of him and all his Arlo-ness!

She let the cushion drop back to the seat, groaning when she saw the damp mark where she must have dribbled, and rubbed at her eyes. She needed a drink. Probably the water Arlo had told her to have, actually. And, and maybe food?

Leavering herself off the side of the couch and towards her kitchen, she stumbled again when her foot caught on the edge of a rug and she crashed into the doorframe. Hissing in pain, she swung herself around it and over to the sink, grabbing her glass from earlier and holding it vaguely under the tap, letting out a disgusted noise when cold water splashed over her hand before she got the glass in place. Yes. Food wouldn’t stop her from being horny, but it might soak up some of the alcohol in her stomach and--

And that was what Arlo had meant with the not herself comment.

He, he thought she was drunk. He thought she hadn’t been in control of what was coming out of her mouth.

She set the glass down and turned the tap off without really thinking about it as that thought settled in her mind, and started to swirl around and mingle with the other thoughts there.

Which. Which was. Well. On some level, she knew was probably true. So the liquid courage she’d had while waiting for him might have loosened her tongue a little more than she’d planned. And she might have been even more obvious with her flirting than she had ever been before, but nothing she’d said or done tonight had been entirely new, had it?

Why did Arlo have to be such a stupid, dumb, kind, considerate, caring gentleman? Who obviously cared about her and wanted her to be safe and wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of her when he didn’t think she was in control. What kind of man was he? Other than an absolutely perfect one, she meant. 

Oh, why was she complaining? She loved that about him. It was right up there with his smile, his laugh, his hidden sense of humour that he only let out around a select few people, that she knew she was privileged to be included in. His sense of righteousness and honour and justice were just as attractive as his kindness, compassion, and inner strength. More of a pull than his face, his hair, his back, his muscles. The way he felt under her hands when she hugged him, or sparred with him, or when he moved her into position when he trained her. The way he allowed her to snuggle into his side and wrap herself around him, and wrapped himself around her and held her close. The way he smelled. And tasted, when they’d shared bottles and she caught a hint of him that hadn’t been there before he’d drunk...

Damnit. She was even more horny now. And nothing to do for that except--

Except maybe practice her knots, like she’d said to Arlo to try and tempt him to stay?

* * *

Arlo carefully stepped through his bedroom door and shut it behind him with a soft click, then let himself lean back against it, sliding down until he was sitting on the top step down into his bedroom.

Damn Hannah. Damn Hannah and her stupid, sexy, brain melting _ everything _ that he couldn’t help but adore. Because damn, damn if he wasn’t worked up beyond belief right now, and having to walk home in the cold hadn’t actually helped with that at all.

The way she’d looked at him, the way she’d smiled, the things she’d _ said, _had played on repeat in his head for the entire walk through town. The look in her eye when she’d seemed to practically beg him to join her had been, well.

He should probably go ahead and get his spare bedsheets out now, rather than wait till he inevitably needed them later on tonight.

His hand slapped to his mouth by itself when a laugh started to bubble out of him with that thought, because he shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. He wasn’t meant to think things like that about her, wasn’t meant to want her like that. And he certainly wasn’t meant to act on it, not when he knew it would only feed into itself and make him want things more.

But damn.

He let his hand drop slightly, fingers brushing over his bottom lip, and closed his eyes.

If he sat here, with his eyes closed, maybe he could pretend. Just for a moment? Pretend it was her fingers, tracing his lips. Her hand, stroking over his stomach. Reaching up to follow the outline of his muscles, then rubbing over where she’d almost kissed him and--

He pulled both his hands away with a growl, holding them clenched into fists in the air before him. Because he shouldn’t. He really, _ really _ shouldn’t.

And he _ wasn’t going to, _ he repeated in his head like a mantra. He was going to go ahead and have that shower, since it hadn’t just been an excuse, and he did need one.

He reached down and tore at his laces, kicking his boots off as soon as he was able to and not really caring where they ended up. He grabbed the railing and pulled himself to his feet, missing the stairs and holding on for a moment while he staggered, then starting to walk through his room.

His jacket slid off his shoulders easily, only to get caught on his wrists. Growling as he shook off first one sleeve, then the other, he threw it clumsily towards the chair in the corner. His t-shirt put up less of a fight, coming off smoothly as he grabbed it behind his head and pulled it up and off with practiced ease. But then his belts. The equipment belt in particular might be a challenge.

The buckle around his leg was easy enough, but then for some reason his fingers didn’t seem to want to work the one around his waist. And how stupid was that? All his plans derailed by a buckle. A small, bubbly giggle escaped him then at the mental image that popped up from that thought, before he shook his head and tried again. He could do this. The belt would not win.

Thirty seconds later though he was almost tempted to yell for Remy to come save him from his unreasonable clothing when he finally managed to pull it free, and he sighed in relief when he was able to wriggle his way out of his jeans, then lean against the end of his bed to kick them off.

The end of his bed. Which was made of bars. Much like Hannah’s was--

By the light no. Bad Arlo. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about metal bars, and hemp ropes, and Hannah’s wrists held out between them while she specifically asked him to tie her up and--

And fuck it.

* * *

Standing at the end of her bed, absently sipping the water she’d brought in with her, she tugged on the rope again. It was looped around the solid metal bars that made up the foot of her bed, so the rope snaked around her hand as she pulled and played with it, allowing her to feel it slide around her fingers and wrist while she got lost in her imagination.

She. She could go ahead and tie herself up with it, in one way or another. Like she’d told him, she was pretty confident at that knots she’d been taught at this point, that she could tie and undo them without issue. So long as she left a hand free, and maybe a pair of scissors or a knife on the side table, she shouldn’t run into problems if she tried them on herself. Not like she had with the handcuffs, when the key had fallen off the bed down between the old, warped floorboard planks.

Yes. Yes, this was seeming more and more like an idea the longer she thought. It would be good to try, at least. See if she liked the feel, the weight of rope tied around her. See if the sensations matched up to what she imagined, what she hoped. And maybe, maybe if she did it right, it might help feed into her fantasy, help immerse her in a way she hadn’t managed before. But that she’d been told by others felt so damn _ good _.

Oh Peach, the friction would be amazing with this rope. And the weight, constantly reminding her it was there. So different to what the handcuffs were like, being smaller, lighter, colder.

The only real question then, was how?

Probably best to start with around one bar at the foot end. No need to jump right in, and restrict herself too much this first time after all. No, she wanted to be able to move, try new things, new angles. There was no reason to make this overly complicated, or try some of the more advanced things people had mentioned to her in the past.

Like tying her hand to her knee or ankle via the head bars, for instance.

She shifted on her feet, rubbing her legs together and letting herself hum and enjoy the thoughts filling her mind.

But yes. While it would have been so much better to have Arlo here with her, helping her with this, she could do this by herself.

And as her eyes wandered to her side table, and the pair of Arlo’s gloves that she'd forgotten to give back _ again_, she bit her lip as she wondered.

What else did she want to try?

* * *

The steam from the shower already running behind him swirled around and filled the room while he stared at himself in the mirror, his hands set on the sink while he leant forward heavily. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t.

It was wrong of him. She was his friend. He shouldn’t think about her like this. No matter how easy she made it to. How she seemed to go out of her way to draw attention to herself in that sort of way, and plant the seeds of fantasies in his mind, where they sprouted and grew and tangled with his thoughts at all the worst times.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

But he knew damn well he was going to because fuck it all, he had to. He was going to explode, one way or the other. And this, this was by far the more pleasant option.

Turning away from his reflection he crossed his small private bathroom and climbed into the tub, then moved under the spray. Warm water started to patter against his skin, damping down his hair instantly and he tipped his face up into it, enjoying the soothing sensation while he wrestled with that last shred of reluctance for what he was about to do.

Because it wasn’t difficult to imagine, after those comments she’d made about knots, that she’d possibly, no, _ probably _ decided to go ahead and practice them straight away after he’d left. 

Which meant, which meant she’d probably be ready to start _ doing _things now.

Because she wouldn’t have tied her hands. She wouldn’t be able to then _ do _ anything if she tied up her hands. No. No, she’d probably have started with her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One hour before the start of Tipping Point under the awning of the Cafe, where Mint sometimes sleeps~  
“Hey Remy?”  
“Mmmmm?” Remy answered, eyes firmly fixed on their friends sitting on the pathway, oblivious to how obvious they were to anyone who happened to look.  
“Where do you think they’ll end up at? Hers or yours?”  
Remy sighed heavily, shaking his head and lifting a hand to rub at his eyes while Sam tried to muffle her giggles with her glove.  
“I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they ‘ended up’ right there on the path. But just in case, would you mind terribly if I slept on your couch tonight?” 
> 
> Sorry not sorry for ending it there =p  
Be sure to check back tomorrow (Jan 1st 2020) for how their evenings play out!
> 
> Happy New Year everyone <3


	21. Over The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah and Arlo unknowingly push each other over the edge, and while the fall may be thrilling, the landing could be fatal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning for:**  
Being Restrained / Fingering / Gagging / Masturbation
> 
> Continues straight after the last chapter ends

Hannah closed her eyes as she finished the knot around her ankle, sliding a finger under it to double check the gap. When her eyes were closed, she could almost imagine that Arlo was here, his actual husky voice guiding her through the steps and telling her what to do next, rather than simply the memory of them. She could imagine that he’d taken her up on her offer to stay and watch her tie knots, and shower in her bathroom, and was now standing next to the bed in nothing more than a towel, making her tie herself up for him while he watched. That he was humming appreciatively at the sight of her naked on her bed, the rough hemp rope now secured around both ankles and one of the bars of the frame, and he was about to take over for her, and do the same for her hands so she’d be completely at his mercy.

Water still dripping from his hair and lashes as he’d smirk down at her, one of his hands pushing his unruly red locks back from his face and leaving it wonderfully tousled when his hand settled at the back of his head. Small beads of water glistening on his chest before starting to trail down when he huffed a quiet laugh. And she’d follow that trail of water as it rolled along his stomach, only to get caught on the towel. One of her towels. Tied low around his hips on one side, and already starting to bulge in the middle.

And dragging her eyes back up at his face would find him smirking in that way of his. That lazy, cheeky, knowing way, because he _ knew _ what that did to her. He _ had _ to have noticed what that smirk did to her. And he’d tell her in his low husky man voice to go ahead and lay down. Because he was in control, and she would do everything he told her, which was exactly the way she wanted it to be.

She shifted all the way back up the bed and lay down, settling her head on her pillow. Lifting her arms, she stretched them up to the head of the bed reaching for the bars, and wrapped her fingers around the cool metal. She hummed at the sensation, letting the temperature and texture play across her palm as she shifted and flexed her hands, before sighing. 

She could easily imagine the pleased sounds he’d make as his eyes travelled along her body, and the way he’d lick his lips as he took all of her in. The way he’d tilt his head as he looked at her, all stretched out and eagerly waiting for him to join her. For him to start telling her what to do to herself. To him.

Holding tighter, she slid her feet down the bed to point at where the rope was loosely circling the bar. Rolling first one way then the other as she made herself relax, letting the air chilled by the night breeze slipping through the cracked open window caress her body and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Then she pulled her feet back up towards her, and let out a shuddering sigh when they felt heavier than normal, and snagged against her sheets. The feel of the rope around her ankle as she shifted her legs was incredible, and already more than she’d hoped for. The soft scratch every time she moved her feet and toes, the way the rope had settled around the joint as gravity tried to make it slide down.

It was all so exquisite!

She let one of her legs stretch back out while she pulled her other further up, and groaned at the faint tug she felt through the rope connecting them. How could something so simple be so, so, erotic? She repeated the process several times, switching legs and allowing her thighs to rub together every pass, causing a delicious friction to start to form where they met. Which only grew when she shifted her hands up the head bars, so her fingers could tangle in the ribbons tied there.

All her beautiful ribbons she’d bought from Carol, the Mystery Man, and from various places back in Barnarock. All her lengths of fabrics she didn’t know the names of but felt so nice against her skin, and could easily be passed off as simple decoration to anyone who didn’t know about her _ preferences_.

She looked up at her hands when her fingers tangled in one of her favourites. A light blue strip of what she thought was cotton, if she remembered right, with a faint white pattern woven in. It had been the first thing she’d ever been gagged with, so held a special place in her heart.

But looking at it now, it reminded her of something else. It was reminding her of…

She whined, closing her eyes and tipping her head back because shit! Fucking shit, it was reminding her of Arlo’s bandana! And damn, if that wasn’t one of the more beautiful, perfect, amazing things she’d ever thought. Arlo’s bandana, which he never took off, which had to be soaked in his smell and taste and everything that made him _ him _ by now, held between her teeth and keeping her quiet as he worked magic on her, and oh wow. If she’d thought she was horny before she’d been sadly mistaken because now, with that thought planted in her head? Wow.

Fingers clumsy with haste, she untied that strip of fabric and brought it down to her face, rubbing it over her cheeks, then lips, before folding it over and opening her mouth to gently, carefully bite down on and yes, yes, if she didn’t think about it too hard, then this might as well be that wonderful bandana he wore.

She hummed happily, enjoying the way the sound was muted by the fabric, and looked back up at the various things still above her.

Because while she couldn’t tie herself to the bed, there was absolutely nothing stopping her from simply tying herself up, if she used the simpler knots, and seeing if the sensations of fabric restraints around her wrists would be just as good as ankle ones she reasoned, quickly untying a long thin strip of something especially smooth and slippery.

With the added bonus of helping to keep things in place she reminded herself, reaching towards her side table.

* * *

Sighing as his fingers settled against the back of his neck, rubbing away the last trace of conditioner he found there, Arlo let his head drop forward and eyed the problem he’d been trying his best to ignore while he cleaned himself. Well, he was as clean as he was getting at this point, and given how he hadn’t been able to tear his thoughts away from Hannah and the mischief she had more than likely already started with the ropes and ribbons she kept in her bedroom, it was no wonder certain parts of him were more awake than they should be.

He turned around to put his back against the cool tiles, letting his head fall to gently thump the wall as he closed his eyes against the sight of the empty bathroom. His tongue ran over surprisingly dry lips as he tried to breathe slowly, allowing his hand to finally start working its way down his body, drawing lazy patterns in the trails of water still pouring down him. Which was a point.

He reached out blindly to turn the water down, leaving it on as barely more than a drizzle for the steam, but not wanting to drain the hot tank completely and get an unwelcome surprise before he was finished, before setting his hand back on his chest.

Fingers reached towards where Hannah had basically kissed him again, and brushed over the point there, and he allowed himself to groan before he copied the action on the other side. He could almost convince himself that it wasn’t him touching his chest, given how pruney his fingers had gotten from the shower. He could almost, almost convince himself that they were Hannah’s. 

Because he wasn’t standing in his warm, lonely bathroom. He was standing in her bedroom. Standing next to her bed, looking down at her where she was laid out before him, her feet tied to the bed by her own hands under his orders, her hands tied together with a ribbon trailing between them, ready for him to grab and pull and move her about as and when he wanted. But right now, her hands were reaching out to him, and settling lightly in the middle of his chest, waiting for his permission to start touching further.

Because she wanted to touch him. He was sure he’d seen her staring at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice at any rate. He was certain that those long, lingering looks that darted down his body, that trailed over his skin and he felt almost as solidly as if she’d actually used her hands, meant what he wanted them to mean. Because honestly, what else _ could _ they mean?

So yes. It was Hannah’s hands that were now smoothing out over his chest, trying to reach as much as she could with her fingers splayed as far as she could reach, then curling them so she left gentle scratches with her nails as she pulled back and stinking slurpees, that was nice. Shit, that was real nice.

He’d sit on the edge of her bed, no. No he’d climb on it, like she’d wanted him to when looking after her at the end of August. Maybe kneel next to her, so he could still see her, still move, but be within reach of her hands as they touched him.

And in return, in return he could--

* * *

\--Trail his hands down from her neck, carefully staying between her breasts, despite how much she wanted him to touch her there. Because he was going to tease her, drag this out in the best way possible. And he’d put his fingerless gloves on, so the loose fabric from around his knuckles was trailing across her skin, the rough sensation mixing with that of the silky ribbon connecting her wrists together which was tied around the gloves to hold them in place. Because they were so stupidly big on her, no, him. Because it was Arlo here with her, touching her, exploring her. Not her own hands. Arlo’s.

Fingers changed direction and started moving back up, both hands in play now and skirting along her sides. Drawing swirling patterns on her skin as he avoided where she wanted, _ needed _him to pay attention to. One of his hands getting higher, leaving trails of sensations over her throat on its way up into her loose hair, and she let herself whine when fingers tangled in it, and started to pull.

Because fuck.

That, on top of everything else, was, was _ fuck _.

And then her head tipped back, exposing her neck, ready to be kissed, marked, _ claimed_, please--

* * *

The whimpers she’d let out as he carefully held her head still would be breathtaking. So similar to the other noises he’d heard her make before, and yet also different. They’d be higher, needier, not any sort of sound she’d ever make in public. Something for his ears alone. Which would make them that much better.

He’d lean down over her to let his lips trail over the skin of her neck, kissing, licking, sucking, maybe biting and marking, if she didn’t object. Because he wanted to claim her, make sure everyone in town knew she was _ his _. 

He could bury his face in her neck and lose himself in that distinct smell of her, that he always sought out whenever he held her close. And now, with the scent fresh in his mind from three hours of her sitting as close as could be, it was easy to let himself _ drown _ in it.

His fingers in her hair, holding her still as she squirmed beneath him, trying to feel him, until he’d press his lips to her pulse point and tell her to stop. To lay there like a good girl and enjoy what he was doing to her. But that didn’t mean her hands could stop, no. No her hands needed to keep moving. Keep exploring. Keep running over his stomach and sides.

And if he didn’t just know for certain that she’d be an absolute brat about that. Because she would. She’d run her hands everywhere she could reach, while being tied together like they were. Up his stomach, over his chest, maybe tracing his adam’s apple when he swallowed roughly. Before changing course and starting to head lower again.

And she’d have her fingertips trail down, down further, and maybe, maybe running through his hair down there, just like he’d thought earlier. Only being very careful to not actually touch him, despite how he rocked and tried to feel something, anything. And yes, yes, that would be good. Until, until he knew she’d pull away, and move on to explore his legs. But fuck. Fuck, he didn’t want her to. He just wanted her to touch him--

* * *

_ \--There_, she wanted him to touch her _ there _ already damnit! But he would be a giant fucking tease, and run the backs of his fingers down her throat, while his others would fall down from her hair to start circling her nipple. And fuck, if the way the silk was trailing over it, not moving in the same wide circle as his fingers and instead making a smaller, less defined circle right where she wanted him to touch most, if that wasn’t one of the best feelings ever.

And when she shifted on the bed, and felt the pull of the rope as it resettled again, she couldn’t stop the long, low moan from spilling out of her mouth, loud even through her gag. Because it just reminded her that she was completely at his mercy right now.

He’d stop everything he was doing to move back up and lean over her, smirk in that lazy, smug, irritating, delightful way he had. The way that made her unsure if she wanted to punch him or kiss him. And then, and then he’d--

* * *

\--Kiss her. He wanted to kiss her, while he had the chance. Not just her throat, or cheek. Not her head like he’d allowed himself when he’d left. He wanted to press his lips to hers and run his tongue over the gap. Maybe into her mouth, to tangle with hers, see if she tasted like he imagined. Or, more likely, if she was even better.

He wanted to see what sort of sounds he could draw from her. What sort of whimpers and moans, if she’d gasp into his mouth. If she’d murmur his name against his lips, and then whine it desperately when he pulled away again so he could sit back up next to her. 

He wanted to hear her say his name in all those different ways, and hear how it’d change as he grabbed her hands from where they’d curled into fists while he’d kissed her and got them moving again. Got her hands moving over his legs, then stomach, skirting up his sides. Yes. And then, then he could tell her to touch herself for him. And watch as she played with her own breast while her other hand--

* * *

\--Stretched down as far as it would go, and she growled in frustration when while she was able to reach _ there, _ she couldn’t quite reach her legs because of the ribbon. But then, the feel of the silk tugging against her, preventing her from moving freely, was exactly what she’d wanted. And while frustrating, it was also so, so exciting.

And Arlo would growl too, from having his show interrupted. He’d tell her softly but firmly to move all her attention to her legs.

So she left her breast, biting down on her gag as the last of the frayed end trailed across her nipple, to allow her hands to move further. Her fingertips skating across her stomach, while her other hand finally reached lower, joining Arlo’s glove covered palm smoothing down her skin so that he could--

* * *

\--Move his fingers up the inside of her thigh, drawing out even more moans and whimpers and other beautiful sounds that made him want nothing more than to grab her hands and move them where he’d dreamed of feeling them on himself. Made him want to feel her touching him everywhere she’d be able to reach. But at the same time, the build up was half the fun. So he’d let her keep exploring, her fingers moving down then back up his legs. Following the hair on his thighs he’d never much cared about before, but now, with the thought of Hannah’s fingers smoothing over and through it, he was tempted to call his favourite feature of himself.

Her fingers would slide over eventually though, to the crease at the top. Then slowly, tentatively start to explore around where his legs met.

And he groaned, bringing one hand up to his mouth and biting on the loose skin at the back of his wrist because fuck. Fuck, he couldn’t be loud. He couldn’t make the noises he wanted to, because of the stupid old piping in the building. He’d learned long, long ago just how badly certain sounds would echo throughout the entire Corps if he wasn’t careful, and while he knew Remy would understand, he’d also be sure to tell Sam, who’d tease him endlessly, and ask questions that Arlo was not ready to answer anytime soon.

So he bit down harder, screwing his eyes tight as her fingers slowly brushed through his hair to find what was hidden there, and he couldn’t help it when his hips rocked forward--

* * *

\--Bumping into her side, and finally moving his fingers where she wanted them, stroking through the folds and swirling round and fuck, fuck yes, right there.

But he barely pressed the tip of his finger against her entrance before pulling away again, and her desperate whine was loud in her quiet room, until she cut off with a gasp when her side was pinched and then the finger was back, deeper this time, so that the edge of fabric was brushing against her too, and holy fucking shit please. Please, more--

* * *

But he’d stop. Stop so he could look at her properly. See what kind of state he’d worked her up into.

And she’d be laying there, on her bed. Flushed that wonderful pink colour she turned when truly flustered. That he’d managed to spark tonight after so, so long, and had honestly missed. But yes, that wonderful tint was spread all over her face, down her neck, and painting her perky breasts a wonderful dark shade.

But no, no he wanted this to last a while longer. So that meant making himself move his mind’s eyes down, so he could work his way up. 

Her feet still tied with that hemp rope she’d been so happy to show off to him. Her long, smooth, deceptively strong legs, that he was _ more _ than familiar with thanks to those stupidly short, tight shorts she always wore, leading up to her groin, exposed thanks to her legs being slightly spread, one of her legs propped up as far as it would go. Allowing, no. _ Encouraging _ him to touch her there.

He had to force himself to move on, instead of getting lost thinking about that area. And how it might look. How it might feel. Thinking about how much he kept hoping he might be allowed to get fully acquainted with it, in every way possible.

Her stomach, again hiding strength he wouldn’t have expected if he hadn’t felt it himself while training. Oh, the times he’d allowed himself to touch her, hold her, spread his fingers against her and pull her close with the excuse of running through exercises or moving her into place. Or the times he’d held her close simply because she allowed him to, his fingers dancing along her sides as she slept on him. He knew what her stomach was like for sure.

And then her breasts again. He’d seen her in enough skimpy, tight fitting outfits at this point to know what they were like. Especially when he remembered that lovely, wonderful swimming costume, that hugged her tightly while leaving so much open for him to see through the thin strips that held the cups together. While he’d _ tried _ to not look while sitting above her on Spacer’s back, and when he’d held her close at the hot springs, well. He was only human. So yes, her perky, blush tinged breasts would be right there before him, just waiting for him to touch. Caress. Kiss. Taste.

Wrists tied together with that long ribbon between them, which he really should make more use of. Maybe he’d grab it, and pull it up. Hold her hands down above her head while he touched her… when he was with her, and not trying to immerse himself in a fantasy. Then her clever, amazing hands. So quick and flexible. Both soft and scuffed, and the feel of those rough patches when she ran her hands over him, touched his arms, hands, cheek. When she ruffled his hair and he felt strands catch on patches of dry, hardened skin. Shit. The thought of those callouses as she touched his body, why had he not remembered them sooner? So like his own in some ways, though in different places he knew. But that, he was adding that in now.

Her hair. Her hair would be pulled free of its usual ties, falling freely over her pillow and getting mussed and tangled as she writhed beneath him, making all sorts of sounds as he would stroke against her once more before sliding his hand down her leg. Away from where she wanted. Teasing her.

And when he’d meet her eyes again, he groaned into his wrist. He’d end up lost like he always did nowadays, he knew. Her brilliant hazel eyes would be so dark, only the slightest hint of colour around her pupils as she stared up at him, panting and whining and _ wanting_. Her glistening lips quivering with each breath before she’d run her tongue over them again, and open her mouth to say his name, beg him to move. Just do something to her already, please!

* * *

But he’d be such a smirky, annoying git as he’d sigh, sitting himself up and pulling back to stretch his hands above his head lazily, giving her another view of his perfection.

His strong arms, which were always ready to catch and support her, with all those well defined muscles that she loved to touch and run her fingers down whenever she could, and to hold against her chest as she half hugged him, would be lifted up above his head. His hands, buried in his hair to smooth it out of his face. And then when he finished that movement, slowly trailing back over his head then down, toying with the strands at the nape of his neck before dropping.

Dropping to his shoulders, which again felt amazing under her hands whenever she had the chance to wrap herself around them. Or rub them, she allowed, shivering as she remembered the paltry taste she’d had on his birthday which had been muted by fabric and left her desperate and aching for more. And by Peach, while she couldn’t see it in the scene playing behind her closed eyes, his back. His back which was a work of art all by itself, that she wanted to touch and explore and rub herself against without all those pesky layers in the way!

Which led to her thinking about his chest again, and what that would be like under her hands.

Because she’d touched that broad, firm chest so many times now. When she’d fall against him while they trained and he’d catch her. And when she’d curl up against him when she felt bad, and he’d tug her into his lap and let her settle with her head on his shoulder, and her hand would end up clutching at his top. Yes, yes she was more than familiar with how it felt through the clothes he wore. But to see it there before her, stripped of all layers just for her.

She had only barely glimpsed it once without at least a tank top in the way. And the memory of seeing him sitting in his bed, blanket pooled in his lap, while he yawned, had played on repeat in her dreams more often than she’d ever admit to anyone.

Oh what she would give to actually be able to reach out and feel those defined muscles on his abdomen. Because she knew Arlo was strong, and not in that show off body builder way. No, no he was _ actually _ strong. As he’d proven back in June, with the push up competition. And then yesterday, when he’d let her sit on his shoulders and then carried her effortlessly. No strain in his voice or body, unlike when Oaks had lifted her before.

Only that towel would be in the way when she then wanted to look lower. Still tied at his hips, but bunched up where he was kneeling next to her, and showing off an obvious bulge. Which she’d get back to, after she’d truly appreciated his legs.

Long and lean and so nice to admire, especially the backs of them and what they led up to. He’d worn shorts occasionally near the end of Autumn while they trained, so she knew almost exactly what they looked like. And felt like, she reminded herself, remembering sparring sessions which had ended with them tangled on a mat while he tried to teach her holds and escapes.

And then, and then she’d reach out for that towel, and tug it free under his dark, hungry gaze. Pull at the edge until the knot came undone, and it slid down his legs, to reveal red curls. Probably. Hopefully. By Peach did she ever hope that all of his hair would be just as vibrantly red as what was on his head.

She didn’t much care about what lay under it, not to look at anyway. No, it didn’t really matter to her how big he was in either sense, or what he looked like. Size and shape really weren’t everything, so long as you knew what to do with it. And she had every faith that Arlo would know _ exactly _what to do with it. 

And not just it. Also his hands. Mouth too, if she was really lucky, but no, there was no point in going there right now. Nothing she would be able to do to herself would come anywhere even close to that. So she’d have to settle for thinking about his hands.

His large, careful hands, wearing those lovely gloves of his which he’d have placed on her thighs, and slid down between them, making her part her legs further and stroking over the soft skin below where she really, truly wanted him to touch. Where his fingertips had only barely hinted at touching earlier, and left her wanting to spread her legs and grab his hand to guide down into place, and press his fingers against her. Into her.

But now, now she was free to imagine that he was doing that by himself. That it was his hands sliding up, closer and closer, so that he could--

* * *

\--Slide a finger along her entrance again, watching her face as the pad parted the wet folds. Because she’d be wet. So, so wet at this point. She’d be ready for this, whining and squirming and practically begging him to just fuck her already. But as much as he wanted to, not yet. No. Not yet.

Because he still wanted to play. Still wanted to think about all the things that could, _ would _ turn her on, then leave her a giant shivering, babbling mess before him. Wanted to think about how she'd react to him touching, kissing, tasting...

Shit. No. Don't think that. Not after he'd practically got a literal face full of her yesterday. No. It'd just make him want things he couldn't do or have right now. No. Back to what he could manage.

He still wanted to think about her hands on him, and what that would feel like. How her slender fingers, so different to his own, would feel wrapped around him and pumping him. Slow or fast, or maybe switching between both? Because damn, if that wasn’t one of the things he’d missed most about being in a relationship. Having someone else there, taking charge. Moving and doing things in ways you weren’t expecting, that caught you by surprise. That you couldn’t prepare for, and so felt the full force of emotions and sensations those actions caused as they caught you up.

So her fingers, wrapping around his length. Squeezing just right as they started to slide back and forth. Up and down. Just the one hand because, because, hmm. Because while he’d have his fingers buried in her, moving and stroking and teasing, he'd tell her to touch herself. So she had one hand wrapped around him, while her other was--

* * *

\--Running her fingers in decreasing circle, getting closer and closer, building the feelings higher and higher, only to pull away and start over again before actually touching where she wanted.

But when she did, by Peach, when she did her hips bucked up without any conscious input. Her fingers started to circle again, while Arlo with his glove that was causing such wonderful friction against her folds had his finger buried inside her. Moving and stroking, and pulling out so he could slide another in. And she bit down hard on his bandana, and focused harder on the image of him, and what he would be doing.

Kneeling next to her still. Eyes dark and hungry as he took her in. One of his hands between her legs, while his other wrapped around his length. Working it in a slow, steady controlled way, that almost made her laugh because even now in her fantasies Arlo just would not let go.

But then, given the circumstances she was imagining, that was actually a good thing.

The thought of Arlo letting go though. Of him being so worked up by her, so desperate to touch her, feel her, have her in every way. That was maybe worth revisiting in another session at some point, she acknowledged as Arlo stroked down his length and rubbed his thumb--

* * *

\--Through the slickness he found to spread it back down himself, breathing hard and struggling to keep his pace slow and even. He could go faster, he knew. There was nothing stopping him other than himself, and his desire to make this last as long as possible. To push that high as far as it would go, so when he reached that tipping point and fell over the edge, the feeling would be truly incredible. 

So he kept his hand moving steadily. Alternating the strength of his grip, throwing in a twist every now and then. Allowing his little finger to brush against his balls in that way that had his hips moving by themselves.

He wished he could risk taking his wrist from his mouth, so he could go back to pretending that Hannah was touching him again. So he could feel her hand over his sides, his neck, tangling in his hair. But he couldn’t.

Instead he started to curl them, just like he would if he really did have them buried deep inside her. Searching for that spot along her walls that would have her crying out loudly and jumping under him, begging him to do it again between her heavy pants. To keep pressing there as she touched herself, and worked herself up more and more.

* * *

By Peach, she just wanted him _ now_. She whined loudly as she shifted, trying to instigate what she wanted. 

She wanted to feel him inside her. Filling and stretching her, hitting all those spots she never quite could on her own. She wanted those angles you could only really get with someone there with you. Above you. Behind you. Yes. Yes that was what she wanted!

* * *

And he wanted to give her what she wanted. He wanted nothing more than to settle between her legs and lay down, feel her body warm and welcoming under him, and rock forward into her, but, but he couldn’t recreate that as he was. So, so how could he--

...

That would work. 

He’d move to grip her hip, then roll her over and pull her up, making sure the rope didn’t tangle. Pull her up so her perfect and utterly amazing arse was right there in front of him. He knew what it looked like, given how she always wore those stupidly short, tight, wonderful shorts that left almost nothing to his imagination. Without clothes, it would be round and soft and smooth, and right there for him to _ finally _ run his hands over. 

And even better, at this angle she wouldn’t be able to touch him back. Which was a bonus for right now, along with the thought of the sounds she’d make as he’d slide himself up against her, rubbing through her folds from behind and making her whimper and squirm when he then leant forward to sloppily kiss along her neck and shoulders--

* * *

And fuck if that wasn’t an amazing thought! Shifting up on to her knees with her face pushed into her pillow, she imagined Arlo’s length moving against her. Parting her just right and sliding over her in almost, almost the right spot while his fingers gripped her hips from behind, his body warming her entire back where he draped himself over her while his lips set patches of skin on fire where he’d be kissing her. She propped herself up on her elbows to start pulling at the knot around one wrist, desperate to get it off so she could reach down and touch herself again and still be able to hold herself up, because fuck, fuck she needed to. She needed to feel something while she thought of Arlo and what he was about to do.

Because he’d straighten up behind her, then move her by the hips into place, and then start to slide his hand down her back to her shoulders before pushing her down so her face was pressed into her pillows again, and then he’d gently rock himself forward and--

* * *

And the thought of carefully parting her then sliding straight in, feeling her warmth envelop him with nothing at all between them was an even more unrealistic fantasy than all of the rest, he knew. But as his hand wrapped firmly around himself he allowed himself to imagine. Because here, in his bathroom, why the everloving fuck shouldn’t he?

So yes. Sliding into her and hearing her gasp and whine, feeling her tighten around him as she squirmed and pushed back, having to press his fingers more firmly into her skin to hold her in place as he tried not to lose it all at once after all that teasing, all that build up. And he could tell her to touch herself again, so he could stay up like this. And she would. She’d reach down between her legs, maybe brush against his balls as she started to circle. But then, then she’d--

* * *

\--Rock back against him, hoping for some sort of movement, some sort of friction as she snaked her hand up between her legs and started to touch herself in earnest. She could just about get both hands down to herself if she shifted her head a little and ignored the twinge in her neck, but it wasn’t quite enough. But, but maybe if she spread out her knees a bit and shifted and yes! Yes! Oh Peach yes.

While it wasn’t quite the same wonderful sensation she was sure having Arlo filling her up completely and rubbing against and into _ all _ the places she wanted would be, it was good enough for now.

Gasping around the gag as her fingers found that place inside of her again, she then whined when her nipples brushed against her soft bedsheets. The feel of the fabric against her was wonderful, and, and that was an idea in and of itself. Because while the gloves which were moving against the insides of her thighs and her entrance where her fingers sunk into her felt truly _ amazing _, there were other places, other feelings she could try. And she stopped touching for a moment so she could gather up the tail end of the silk still tied to one hand, before running that over herself while her fingers curled inside and shit! Yes! Even without everything else, how had she never thought of this before? 

* * *

Arlo groaned, letting go of himself and pushing himself off the wall to spin round and set his forearm against it, then leaning his head forward so he could bite his wrist again. His fingers scrabbled against the sleek tiles when he wrapped his hand back around himself and started to pump again, breathing heavily through his nose as he set his feet so he could start to rock into his hand.

The thought of kneeling behind her, his fingers gripping her tightly as he moved, slowly building up speed, rolling his hips to draw those utterly delightful sounds from her lips, it was starting to get to him. He was worked up enough that he was sure this wouldn’t last much longer. Which was truly a shame. Because this had been one of the most beautiful, perfect, amazing fantasies he ever remembered having. It really was like he was with her. Sharing this experience.

And then when he let his fingers trail off himself, to quickly stroke down to cup and gently roll his balls, he couldn’t stop the violet jerk that took over him, or the change in the feeling in his gut, and yes, so close. So fucking close. 

* * *

He was panting, and grunting. Making the same sorts of sounds as he had at his birthday. That she didn’t have to imagine so much as remember. And by Peach, yes. Thinking about him behind her, warming her, moving inside her, making those kinds of noises, it was making that _ want _ inside her curl tighter and tighter. She bit down harder on her gag as she felt that feeling she’d been chasing grow stronger, and she clenched down around her fingers and--

* * *

\--And he grunted into his wrist as his hips started to move by themselves, jerking even as he sped up his hand’s movements, wrapping his fingers more firmly around himself as if it were her. As if it were her he’d just gotten off and was now squeezing him tight, milking him for every last drop he could give her. Eyes screwed tightly shut, he rode out the wave of pleasure coursing through his body the only way he could, and tried not to whine when it seemed to last longer than normal.

Because fuck. That was good. That was so fucking good. Especially when he could practically hear her shouting his name, her whimpers and moans and gasps. So easily imagine the way she’d be rocking back into him, opening herself up and encouraging him to keep pumping, keep filling her and hitting those spots as she rode out her own high.

And he was more than happy to oblige her. Just like he always was.

* * *

Hannah panted as she pulled her fingers out and let her knees slide backwards until she was laying facedown on her bed. Oh, oh wow. That. That was probably the best orgasm she’d had in a long, long time. Possibly ever. She didn’t want to move ever again.

And, and she didn’t have to. Not for a while at any rate. Not really. She needed to undo the knots around her ankles, just to be safe. She didn’t want to wake up to find the rope had got tangled and cut in. Same for the one left on her wrist. But other than that, there was no real reason for her to get up and spoil the fantasy with pesky reality. Not anytime soon. 

She made herself roll over and bend her feet up again, blindly reaching down and tugging the quick release knot free, then letting her legs slide down bonelessly as she picked at the ribbon. Now she just needed to pull her cover over herself, yeah, just like that, and she could, she could easily fall asleep here, just like this. While imagining Arlo still here with her, settling down on the other side of her bed next to her.

* * *

Arlo slowly let go of his wrist and shifted to rest his forehead against his now stinging and marked skin. That had been, that had been something else. More intense than he ever remembered it being. And so, so incredible.

Forcing his eyes open when his breathing returned to something approaching normal, he huffed a laugh. Well. At least he was still in the shower, he supposed. Made clean up easier.

He pushed himself up, rolling his shoulders, then turned the shower back on, grateful when warm water washed over him immediately. He lowered the shower head and quickly cleaned himself off, keeping his now mostly dry hair out of the spray so he wouldn’t have to stay up any longer than he absolutely had to, then turned the water to the wall. Washing away all the lingering evidence of his fantasy.

When he was done, he climbed out, grabbing his thankfully also warm towel and roughly drying himself as he walked out into his room. Acutely aware that he was alone. He was alone in his room, and about to climb under his cool, empty sheets all by himself.

Because fuck.

The high he’d ridden was already fading, to be replaced by regret and emptiness and clarity. Because that, none of that had been real. Hannah hadn’t just spent who knew how long with him, whining his name and wanting him. Letting him touch her, pleasure her.

Letting him love her. 

And he was going to have to face her tomorrow, and act like he hadn’t just imagined all of that. He was going to have to smile and laugh and pretend that he wasn’t breaking every time she flirted with him without meaning it. Every time she touched him, just to tease and taunt him. Every time she smiled at him, open and trusting and with no idea what he was thinking. No idea what he wanted.

He was going to have to face that torture again and again, until he worked up the courage to confront her about it, or until she got bored.

Face it again and again, until something finally tipped over the edge, one way or the other.

And he could only hope, he told himself as he flipped his covers back and tried not to wince at how cold they were on his overly warm skin. He could only hope that whatever way he did end up tipping, it wouldn’t result in him shattering completely.


	22. Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An innocent misunderstanding becomes the last straw on Arlo’s sanity.

October 19th, Saturday 

“... and they’re honestly not even annoying me anymore, not even a little bit. I actually keep looking forward to what they’ll do next, because it’s always stupid and always hilarious.”

Arlo ran his hands over his face, rubbing at his eyes and stifling a yawn as he leant back in his seat. He was too tired for this. He was too tired to drink, too tired to be social, and definitely too tired to keep up his Captain face, but Sam had been nagging about how important it was that he came to the Round Table with them tonight, and he was--ironically--too tired to argue with her, so here he was. Here he was, sitting in a booth with her, Remy and Hannah, with an alcoholic drink on the table in front of him and an out-of-this-world fatigue dragging his muscles towards the floor. Here he was, slow and distant and weary, trying to keep up with Sam’s quick jumps from thought A to thought B to thought Z, which was usually easy, but which now felt like he was struggling not to lose himself in a quicksand of words that didn’t seem to have anything to do with each other even in the best of worlds.

And then there was Hannah.

Hannah, with her easy smile and intelligent eyes; with her silky skin and pink cheeks; with her way of moving her pursed lips from side to side as she was thinking and the way that her whole face brightened when she talked about Adrien and Marinette and how they felt like family to her already; with the way she twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she listened to whatever Sam was currently talking about; with the way that all of her just pulled him in and made him want to wrap himself around her and just… sleep with her.

And he didn’t even mean it in _ that _way. He meant it in the literal, completely innocent way. The way that they had used to sometimes rest together, with Hannah draped over him on her couch, with her head tucked safely beneath his chin, and his arm wrapped around her as he made lazy patterns on her hip. That all seemed like a perfect dream now, like an unattainable fantasy, but he couldn’t help wishing for it anyway, because he was so tired and she was probably soft and warm and…

_ Fuck. _He raised his glass to his lips and looked away from Hannah’s face, trying to centre himself. He shouldn’t think stuff like that. Hannah didn’t mean any of the flirting, after all. She was just teasing him, just mocking him, completely unaware about his feelings for her, and it had gone so far now that there was just no way he could tell her. Especially after all the things he’d imagined doing to her when he’d finally tipped over the edge a few weeks back. How was he ever going to be able to look her in the eyes again without flinching away as soon as she met his gaze?

Something touched against his foot under the table, and he fully expected it to disappear again when whoever it was realised that they’d extended their leg a little too far, but… it didn’t. He paused, glass still tipped against his lips, as he quickly scanned the faces of the people sitting on the other side of the table. Remy and Hannah. But Remy was sitting too far away to be able to reach him so easily, and that left…

_ Hannah_, who was still smiling, still focused on Sam as she told her stories, but wasn’t there a faint blush dusted across her cheeks? 

Arlo lowered his glass, setting it down carefully on the table as he kept looking at her face. He could usually read her fairly well, but with his brain so muddled by fatigue, he was having a hard time interpreting what he saw now. She wasn’t looking at him, not even glancing furtively, so what did that mean? What did that blush mean?

He froze as her foot slowly started upwards, running its toes along his shin, and suddenly he was wide awake, thoughts running wild. What was she doing? What was she thinking? What was he supposed to do and think? Was he supposed to do anything back? Was he supposed to move his leg to the side and put a stop to it? 

But he _ couldn’t _ move his leg, he just couldn’t, it was frozen in place, and the foot ran up up up until it reached his knee, and then it ran down down down back to his ankle, and through all of it, Hannah had her attention fixed on Sam, humming and laughing and grinning, still with those rosy cheeks, and she just _ couldn’t _be doing this ironically, could she? Because this wasn’t like all the other things she’d done. This wasn’t cheeky comments or little winks. This was full-blown fondling beneath the table, secret touches while no one else saw, and surely that secrecy meant that this was more serious? That she was shy, and didn’t want anyone else to see? Because normally, she didn’t seem to care who saw or heard.

If he leant back, he could probably see her leg under the table, but he just couldn’t bring himself to move, so he sat up all straight like an arrow, clenching his glass tightly as his brain struggled to wrap itself around the situation.

But if this was a sign from Hannah, if this was an actual, serious invitation, then he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t even react, didn’t even confirm to her that he felt it. 

Leaning forward over the table, hoping to catch her attention, he opened his mouth to say her name, when suddenly the touch stopped. It just… disappeared. And he paused, eyes darting across her face, but nothing had changed, she was still smiling at Sam, and--

He jumped as something flew into his field of vision, landing on the seat between him and Sam, and he turned his head to see Pinky, who had jumped up from beneath the table and was now busy pawing the seat. Arlo’s heart froze in his chest. Slowly, he leant back in his seat, glancing casually under the table, just to see Hannah’s legs far, far away from his own, crossed and turned towards Sam.

He drew in a trembling breath, knocking his legs against the table as he stumbled up, stammering out a weak excuse when all eyes turned to him before he turned his back on them and fled the booth, somehow making his way to the bathrooms and pushing his way inside, silently thanking whoever might be listening that he was alone in the room. He bent over one of the sinks, struggling to get his shaky hands to turn on the tap before shoving them into the stream of water, barely registering the cold even as he bent down to rub it into his face. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes against the water, and for a brief, blissful moment, all he focused on was the feel of the cool water on his skin, washing away his damn blush along with all the stupid hopes he’d allowed himself to have in that booth.

He raised his head, running one hand down along his face to wipe away most of the water as he looked up into the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. Gone was the calm and collected Civil Corps officer. Gone was the well-practiced impassion. All he could see now was the remnants of that man; the broken, terrified remnants of a naive man who--for a short, hopeful moment--had thought that the woman he loved actually returned his feelings.

He squeezed his eyes closed to escape his own gaze, exhaling a slow breath between his teeth as he counted to ten. He was going to have to go back out there soon. They would be wondering where he went, what happened, and if he stayed in here for too long, they would start asking questions. Hannah would turn that soft, concerned expression to him and ask if something was wrong. 

But even if he managed to put his Captain face on again, they would see that he’d wet his face. His bangs were dripping, steadily sending drops running down his forehead and cheeks, and his face was a moist mess. He was fucked. He was utterly, sorrowfully fucked. He couldn’t go back out there. He couldn’t go back to the booth and pretend. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to pretend again.

He drew in a trembling breath, trying in vain to stop the sob that wanted to force its way out, but it was stronger than him, and it forced him to bend back down over the sink as the drops of water on his face were joined by insistent tears. Fuck. Fuck this all to pieces. He couldn’t do this. He just couldn’t _ stand _ being around Hannah anymore. She was too much; too happy, too clever, too beautiful, too… too _ Hannah _, and it was eating him up inside that he couldn’t ever have the things she so easily dangled in front of him. He’d wanted that touch against his leg to be her foot. He’d wanted it so badly. And wasn’t it just the perfect irony that it wasn’t even her teasing that had broken him this time? That it was just a damn cat?

The door opened to his right and he hurried to splash more water on his face in a desperate attempt to hide his tears. He couldn’t pretend right now, he couldn’t put on the mask, so please, please don’t let it be someone he’d have to talk to--

Whoever it was passed right by behind him and went into one of the stalls. Arlo exhaled in relief. Thank Peach. At least he had _ some _luck this evening.

But he wasn’t willing to risk it again, and he feared that things would only get worse the longer he stayed in here, allowing himself to think and grieve. Wiping his face somewhat dry on one of the towels by the wall, he took one last look in the mirror--still wet, still mushy, but acceptable--and started towards the door. Taking one last deep breath, he pushed his way out again, back into the pressing warmth and music and laughter and smell of food and alcohol. He didn’t even spare a glance at the booth where Sam, Remy and Hannah were probably still sitting; he just steered straight for the front doors of the restaurant, keeping his head low and his face hidden as he zigzagged between bodies.

But then one of them threw out an arm, and it came too late for him to be able to veer away, so he ran right into it, letting out a low _ oof _in surprise.

“Hey,” a voice said next to him, and he glanced to his side to see Sam’s face--Sam’s very concerned face, her gaze searching him even as he tried to turn away. “Arlo, what’s--”

“Not now,” he squeezed out between his tightly clenched teeth. “Please, Sam, please, _ not now. _”

She stared at him, eyes widening as he allowed her to take in the full extent of his pathetic, mushy face. And to his surprise--to his relief--she lowered her arm and gave him a solemn nod. He turned away, getting his feet moving again and shoving his way through the front doors, not slowing his pace even as he reached the fountain in the middle of the plaza. He needed to escape. He needed to hide.

He needed to pull back from Hannah before he completely lost his sanity.


	23. Mr Captain Sir Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah just wants things to go back to normal, but Arlo doesn’t even know what “normal” means anymore. Maybe it will help to bring things back to the very beginning?

November 9th, Saturday 

Arlo sighed as he rifled through the remaining papers in the pile. It was his own fault for putting off the inevitable for so long, because he should have done this last weekend, while his memory was still fresh. He knew the paperwork could grow into something insurmountable in just a few days. Just because he didn’t feel up to it, that didn’t mean Gale didn’t need his reports. Gale had his own superiors to placate, and there was no way he could do that without reports from the Civil Corps. And writing up those reports… that particular duty fell on the Captain.

A bark of laughter reached him from the common area, and he glanced over to see Sam leaning forward in her armchair, one arm around her torso and the other gripping the armrest, while roaring with laughter over something Hannah had said, judging by the not-so-innocent grin on the Builder’s face. He sighed and turned back to his paperwork. At least it had given him an excuse not to join the others. After the Pinky incident, he’d known that his drink nights with Hannah needed to come to an end. But the wuss that he was, he couldn’t stomach telling her the truth. So when last weekend had come around and Hannah asked where they should meet up this time, he’d said he had to work early the next morning and so needed to go to bed early. He’d hoped to get away with it, but she’d just smiled and said, “Next weekend then.” His panicked response had been, “I’ll ask Sam and Remy to join us again.” Because at least if the two of them weren’t alone, maybe--just maybe--he’d be able to handle everything that was Hannah.

He’d spent almost an hour getting ready tonight, not that it should be discernible. While he’d started by dressing up in a shirt and nice trousers, and swearing in front of his bathroom mirror as he tried to get his hair to behave, his anxiety had soon taken over and convinced him he was being an idiot. So he’d thrown the clothes back into the closet, ruffled his hair into chaos and stepped into his normal work outfit again. If Remy wondered why it had taken him an hour to ruin his hair, he didn’t show it.

But then Hannah had arrived, and she only had to glance up at his hair with a knowing smile to make him break.

“Sorry,” he’d blurted out, “I can’t join you tonight.”

Her smile had faded as she asked why, and he was wondering the same thing, because yes, why couldn’t he join them? Eyes darting around the room, his gaze had finally landed on the stack of papers on his desk, and it felt like everything clicked.

“Paperwork,” he said, now with a little more confidence. He gestured to his desk, and Hannah turned to look, her lips shaping a silent ‘oh’. “I haven’t been able to keep pace this week, and it needs to be done tomorrow. But Sam and Remy are still up for drinks, right guys?” 

He turned to look over his shoulder, and while Sam was scowling, Remy smiled and made a thumbs up. When Arlo looked at Hannah again, she had a small smile on her lips. Not exactly happy, not really excited, but at least it wasn’t pure disappointment.

He’d made to pat her on the shoulder, then stopped himself and given her a quick smile instead before walking past to his desk. Then he’d tried to shut out the others’ conversation and focus on his work, to little success. The responsible thing to do would be to lock himself in his room and finish this as efficiently as possible, but… Well…

While he’d gotten away with a half-truth this time, he couldn’t help feeling bad about avoiding her like this. He’d barely talked to her over the last three weeks, and he’d gone out of his way to avoid running into her on his patrols or errands throughout the town. Like Monday last week, when he knew her time of the month was coming around, he’d been so torn over whether he should go see her despite the tension or just pretend that it had slipped his mind. In the end, he’d sent Sam with Hannah’s favourite foods and a note where he apologised for being too busy to go himself. Maybe she’d believed it, maybe not. He just couldn’t be alone with her anymore. 

Just talking to her was trying these days, because he constantly had to check his face and his reactions and make sure not to read too much into her comments, or the way that she smiled at him, or the way that her hips swayed as she walked… It was easier to just ignore her, to stay away from her, because if he did, he couldn’t be exposed to the torture. Of course, if she ever needed him in his official capacity, he would be there and listen intently. But he just couldn’t handle anything more than that right now; not if he ever wanted to get over her.

And still… he found it impossible to leave the room that she was in. Because even if he couldn’t handle being with her, just knowing that she was there--just seeing her smile, hearing her laugh--was somehow... soothing.

“Arlo?”

He felt his muscles tense slightly at the sound of her voice so near him. Trying to ignore the way that her fingers sprawled across the desk as she leant her thigh against it, he kept his pencil going along the faint line on the paper, having no clue what he was actually writing. 

“Hm?” he said, all his focus aimed at keeping his face impassive and his voice untouched. 

“Don’t you want to come join us?” she asked lightheartedly. “You’ve been at it for hours; maybe it’s time for a break? You could have just one glass and come talk for a while. It’s Saturday, after all.”

Arlo swallowed discreetly. The thought of even one glass of liquor in Hannah’s company was enough to make his stomach turn. He needed to keep some distance, and he _ definitely _needed to keep his head clear around her.

“No thanks.”

He kept writing, kept his gaze down, hoping that she would take the hint and leave already, but she wasn’t leaving, why wasn’t she leaving damn it? He idly registered how her long, slightly calloused fingers fiddled with the knickknacks on his desk as she watched him in silence for a moment. He hoped she wasn’t trying to read what he was writing, because it was probably gibberish.

“Guess I should leave you to it, then...” 

_ Yes_, he thought, _ you should. _

She should leave, and go back to being over there in the corner of his eye; just stick to existing in the periphery so he wouldn’t have to--

“... Mr Captain Sir.”

He jerked up his head to stare at her, searching her face in shock, and saw her mirror his reaction, her hand retracting as she straightened in front of his desk.

“Th-that’s fine, Hannah,” he stammered out, watching with a growing feeling of unease as she slowly started smiling, eyes gleaming and dimples popping, and his heart skipped, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so unabashedly happy.

“Oh, don’t let me disturb you, Captain,” she grinned, emphasising the last word in a somewhat lower voice, and as he stared at her, still in complete shock, she spun on her heel and walked back with light steps to Sam and Remy by the couches. 

He drew in a trembling breath as he cast down his eyes, gaze darting in confusion across the papers on his desk, because she… she’d just called him… and looked at him like...

He wanted to hide his face in his hands, but he knew she’d be able to see it, so instead, he grabbed a notebook from his right, pretending to read something in it as he leant his face in his left palm, hiding his face from her view. His heart was pounding.

She hadn’t called him that in ages. She hadn’t called him that in _ half a year _ until now _ . _ And just the tiny little fact that he’d looked up and answered her had made her whole face turn into the damn sun. She’d called him Mr Captain Sir, and he’d clearly showed her that it worked. Well, what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t _ not _ respond to it; he couldn’t _ not _respond when she asked him in his official capacity. 

Arlo squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to talk to her. He needed to sort things out. Maybe it wasn’t too late? Maybe they could still be friends? If only he pulled his head out of his arse and actually spoke with her, maybe they could go back to being Arlo and Hot Stuff, and he could stop playing this stupid game of pretend and ignore.

_ What is there to go back to, though? _ a voice whispered in his head. _ Without the feelings, without the flirting, without the intensity… Isn’t that friendship you used to have really just an empty shell? _

He swatted the thought away as he closed the notebook, straightened and returned his attention to the report he was in the middle of writing. No, he would go talk to her. He would apologise for being so distant, and then he’d see where that would lead them. And if, by some off chance, they could return to being friends again, then that… that would be…

His thoughts trailed off as he frowned down at the paper, eyes darting back and forth along the lines. Really, Arlo? Really? He knew he was screwed, but to just write her name over and over again for half a page? He groaned, crumpling the paper in his hand and dropping it in the trash bin below his desk. Perfect. Now he’d have to start all over again.

* * *

December 4th, Wednesday 

“When are you gonna do it?”

Arlo glanced to the side, meeting Sam’s intense gaze from where she sat on Teddy beside him. He was so used to seeing her smile and joke around that he found himself blanking for a moment as he considered her question. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was getting at, but maybe if he pretended like he didn’t know, he could buy himself some time.

“Do what?”

She rolled her eyes, as always able to see right through his well-practiced mask of impassion. “When are you gonna start talking to her again?”

He was so close to telling her off, the words had already started forming on his tongue, but then he stopped himself, letting the argument sizzle off and evaporate into a sigh instead. Turning his head, he gazed back in the direction of Hannah’s workshop. She was walking back and forth along her furnaces and hadn’t caught sight of the two of them yet, where they rode at a slow pace from the tree farm and towards the town’s Western gate. Even from this distance, he could see the furrows in her forehead as she murmured something to herself, probably trying to keep count of how many bars she needed of this and that and how she could best maximize the output of her machines. Something ached in his chest as he watched her. Right there, with all her ingenious constructions and creations and processes and projects, that was where she was most in her element. And snarling slurpees if she wasn’t attractive in that element.

“I’m… working on it.”

“Really? Because it seems to me like you’re beating around the bush a whole lot.”

He clenched his jaw, throwing a sullen glance her way. “You don’t understand.”

Sam huffed a breath that was half-amused, half-annoyed. “_I _ don’t understand? Arlo, if _ anyone _should understand what’s going on here, it’s me. For all the ways you’ve changed since we were teens, you’re still awful at taking initiative in relationships.”

Arlo looked away again. He couldn’t look at Sam right now, couldn’t bear to see her expression. He knew she had a point, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. It was bad enough that she could read him so easily.

“Look, maybe I don’t understand _ everything_,” Sam went on a little more softly when he didn’t answer. “But I know that you two used to be inseparable. She made you happy, she gave you something more to live for than just work and responsibilities, and I get that something went wrong along the way, but don’t you think she’s worth another chance? Don’t you think your happiness is worth it?”

“I _ will _talk to her, ok?” he said, anxious to end the conversation. “I just need to find the right moment.”

“I think now is a pretty good moment.”

Sam spurred Teddy on, and before he could shout at her to stop, she’d ridden up to the fence around the workshop and pulled to a stop.

“Hey, Hannah!”

He watched in mild panic as the Builder raised her head and looked towards them, smiling easily when she saw Sam, and then her gaze landed on him, and… Sweet panbats, was she blushing? He took a deep breath and forced himself to ride up beside Sam, inclining his head in greeting.

“Hi,” she said, pushing her jacket sleeves up then wiping her palms against her thighs as she walked up to them. Thankfully, she was wearing long, loose work pants now that it was Winter, instead of those ridiculously tight shorts she always insisted on wearing throughout the rest of the year. “Out on patrol?”

He expected Sam to answer--well, he _ hoped _ she would answer--but she just looked at him expectantly. _ Damn it. _

“We, uh,” he said, then cleared his throat. What was wrong with him? He could be professional. This was just a citizen, just anyone. Just someone who asked a simple, normal question about work. “We went to check out a supposed anomaly in the hazardous ruin in the marsh. Dawa thought he heard mechanical scraping, but it turned out it was just a group of tourists from Walnut Groove who were trying to force open the door. Unsuccessfully, I should add.”

Hannah gave him an incredulous look. “Wow.”

“Speaking of,” said Sam, pressing her heels into Teddy’s sides. “I should go find Dawa. He was worried it might be a rogue AI, so he and Aadit spent the morning in town. You can stay here Arlo, no need for both of us to go,” she added with a knowing smile.

Arlo shot her a sharp look, but she just turned away.

“Bye, Hannah.”

“Bye,” Hannah replied, and if Arlo didn’t know better, he’d say her blush intensified as she glanced up at him. 

He watched Sam ride away through the gate, moistening his lips as he considered his next move. He could give Hannah an excuse about having to brief Gale, but the mayor didn’t usually require oral reports for insignificant incidents such as this one, and Hannah knew that. She also knew that his schedule wasn’t usually busy enough for him to be unable to take breaks, thanks to all the previous times he’d stopped by in the middle of the day just to talk to her, so that was also a no-go.

He looked down at her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze. Well… He supposed this was the best opportunity he could get. 

He dismounted Spacer, hitched him to the fence and swung first one, then the other leg over it to get into Hannah’s front yard. As she watched in silence, he walked up to the stable and reached out a hand to pat Marinette on her neck, swallowing as the horse almost seemed to lean her head into his palm. Did she remember him, he wondered? Did she remember all the times he’d helped Hannah clean out the stable, or the times he’d been with Hannah while she fed her and Adrien? 

“She likes you,” Hannah said quietly as she walked up beside him.

He ran his hand back and forth over Marinette’s neck, unsure what to say. Surely if she did remember him, she wouldn’t be so willing to let him pet her? Surely she would have noticed that he’d started pulling away?

“They seem to be doing well,” he noted, wincing at what a stupid comment that was. He didn’t come here to talk about Hannah’s horses; he came to give her an apology. 

“You sound surprised. You think I don’t take care of my horses?”

He froze, turning his head to glance at Hannah, but she was smiling. Oh. A joke. Right. He could do those. Relaxing his shoulders, he forced a smile of his own.

“Considering how often you lose track of time while ruin diving or fall asleep in strange places far away from home, I think my surprise is justified.”

She snorted. “It’s not _ that _often. I have never neglected Adrien or Marinette.”

“I know, I know,” he relented. “They’re in good hands.”

He gave Marinette one last pat, feeling his insides flutter uncomfortably as he remembered once again that he was supposed to apologise. The ease with which they’d fallen back into their old banter was disarming, but he couldn’t let his longing for those old times get in the way of his mission. Pausing with his hand on the warm skin, he took a deep breath to prepare himself.

“Hannah, I--”

“I hope so,” she started at the same time, and he gestured for her to go on when she fell silent. “But I often feel like I’m not good enough.”

He tilted his head to the side, studying her face. “Not good enough?”

“I just feel like my two hands aren’t enough sometimes,” she continued, immediately setting him on alert. She bent forward slightly, hands clasped behind her back as she peered up at him through the loose strands of hair framing her face, which shifted as she tilted her head to the side. He noted how the light seemed to sparkle on the flecks of green in her hazel eyes, so determined was he to not look down at the gap now formed in the neck of her T-shirt. 

“With a more experienced pair of hands,” she said in a low voice, looking him intently in the eyes, “I could get to the best part much faster. You know, the stroking, petting, the rubbing them down... If I had someone there to help me, I’m sure I’d be so much better, and could get to the actual _ riding _part much faster, I mean.”

He stared at her, feeling his heart thud in his chest. Did she… Did she just... Use his own innuendos, the ones he’d teased her with last Summer about using his hands for whatever she wanted, on _ him_? Did she have any idea what that kind of stunt did to him?

“Do you know someone who could help me with that?”

He knew that he should look away from her, but he was just completely frozen in place, enchanted by the secretive lilt in her voice and the way her pupils widened as she looked at him. Maybe if she hadn’t looked so innocent; if she had been more blatant in what she was doing, then maybe… But she gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, beneath her soft hair, and if it hadn’t been for the blush on her cheeks or the suggestive pose she’d leant into, the way she looked at him might not have had the raw effect it now did, might not have sent his brain spiralling into the kind of inappropriate territories he only allowed himself to wander into late at night when he was completely alone, and barely even then because he _ shouldn’t_. As it was, he felt his breath hitch in his throat at the almost primal reaction she sparked in him just by _ looking at him like that_. Because by Peach, the way she was looking at him made his blood rush from his head and gave him an unwelcome urge to pin her to the nearest wall and show her what he could do with his hands; to find out what she would look like when she fell apart around his fingers; and _ fuck, shit, no _ he was not supposed to think stuff like that, he _ could not _ let himself _ go there_.

But Hannah seemed unaware of how she was affecting him, because she parted her lips and let out a slow breath that echoed in his brain, and then, then she said in a voice that sounded excruciatingly sultry to his ears, “Can you help me get there… Mr Captain Sir?”

And just like that, the spell was broken. The world slowed to a stop around him, all colours draining and leaving only a washed out grey in their wake. The fire that had started in his body went out in a heartbeat, leaving him cold and shivering, and as he stared at her, saw the dark gleam in her eyes, he felt something shatter inside him. His face went slack for a second, his shoulders sinking, until bolts clicked into place and gears started whirring again and colours returned to the world and he drew in a long, deep breath, taking back control of his face and his body, feeling a comfortable calmness lower itself down over him.

Something shifted in Hannah’s eyes, and she straightened, parting her lips around the beginning of a question, but he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever it was.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he heard himself say in an empty voice. “You’ll have to ask one of my colleagues.”

Before he could see her reaction, he spun on his heel, made his way back over the fence and unhitched Spacer before mounting him easily. 

“Good day, Miss.”

And he pushed his heels into Spacer’s sides and steered him towards the gate, breathing calmly and evenly, gaze set straight ahead and mind clear, wondering what he’d been so worked up about in the first place. This was how it had to be; how it was _ supposed _to be. It was clearly what Hannah wanted, it was surely what he wanted, it was the only thing that made sense.

He was the Captain, she was a Builder, and whatever they’d once had, it was gone with the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're in for a good ol' batch of angst~ ^_^  
/Ladroitte


	24. Professional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s just having a bad week, right? A bad few weeks. A bad month...?

December 12th, Thursday 

Hannah’s hand trembled where it hung in the air in front of the doors to the Civil Corps building. This was so stupid. How long ago was it that she’d last knocked on these doors? She couldn’t remember ever having done it since last Spring. Ever since then, she’d just pulled open the doors and walked right in. And still, for some reason, knocking had been such a natural instinct that she now found herself with her fist raised, unsure where exactly this automatic action came from.

She took a deep breath as she lowered her hand again. Come on, this was just the Civil Corps, nothing to worry about. Sure, she was supposed to train with Arlo, just like she always did at this time on Thursdays. And this time was different, because she hadn’t seen him since that incident in her front yard, where he’d shut down completely and called her Miss and just left her there without any explanation. So she didn’t quite know what to expect from him. But really, he might have just had a bad day. Or, she thought as she remembered how strange he had acted lately, or a bad couple of weeks. Just a month or so. If she just stepped inside, everything might be as it used to. Arlo might smile, shoot her a friendly gibe about being late, and then pull her into a hug. There really was no reason why everything couldn’t be normal again.

She jumped back as the doors opened and Arlo stepped forward, towering over her. She blinked up at him, almost certain that she could see a small crease forming on his forehead before it vanished again.

“Good evening.”

“Good, uh, good evening,” she replied quietly before taking a breath to pump herself up. “I’m here for our training?”

“Remington will cover for me today, I’m needed somewhere else.”

Before she could even think of a response, he made his way past her and walked around the corner to the stable. Hannah stared after him. What? He… he wouldn’t even tell her where he was going?

She faintly registered the doors opening in front of her again, and as she turned back, she saw that Remy was holding one of them open for her, smiling.

“Come on in, Hannah.”

When she just looked at him in confusion, his smile faded, exchanged for a look of concern. Without letting go of the door, he took a step closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“The Captain had to take on a last minute commission. You’ll have to put up with me this time.”

“Oh,” she said, snapping out of her stupor, “I’m sure you’re a great tutor. Thank you, Remy.”

He smiled again. “It’s my pleasure, Hannah.”

He led her inside, and she could have sworn he threw a sharp look in the direction of the stable before closing the doors, but that was probably just her imagination.

* * *

December 21st, Saturday 

“Hey! Ar--Mr Captain Sir!”

Hannah’s heart thudded heavily in her chest as she saw Arlo turn to her across the plaza. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing to call out to him, but she’d been so surprised to even see him around that she couldn’t help herself. Now that his gaze landed on her and he started towards her, she wished she could have just kept quiet.

_ No, _ she told herself, _ you’re being stupid. Arlo is your friend, he’s just going through something right now. You can’t just ignore him because you don’t know how to handle it. _

He came to a stop, and it was almost like he’d studied a graph over how far away you could stand from someone while still being within social distance, because he stopped so far away she half wondered when he was going to walk the rest of the way over to her.

“Is there a problem, Miss?”

Hannah felt a cold shiver run up along her back at the emptiness in his voice. “I… No, no problem, I just wanted to see how you were. I haven’t… haven’t seen you in a while?”

He looked at her for a moment, face impassive and eyes looking almost bored as they studied her.

“I’m fine, thanks.” He turned around, sparing her a single last glance before he started walking. “Sorry, I have to get back to patrol.”

Hannah stood frozen in place, watching in shock as he strode back across the plaza, up towards the hill. Was that really Arlo, or had an alien taken his place?

* * *

January 3rd 101AP, Friday 

“I still say we should close all the ruins during Winter, because mud-freaking-crab, it is _ freezing _in here.”

“Or you could bring a warm coat next time, like I suggested you do back at the Corps.”

Hannah glanced to her side as Sam huffed and leant back against the uneven ruin wall, giving Remy a half-annoyed, half-amused glare. To her defence, she had exchanged the pink bomber jacket for a somewhat more reasonable parka jacket, but it still didn’t seem to be very warm.

“That ball of fluff you offered? Yeah, lot of good that would have done me in a fight.”

“Children, please,” Arlo sighed somewhere further behind Hannah. “Stop bickering.”

She clenched her jaw, trying to tune out the others as she focused on fixing the broken door mechanism. Despite how cold it was, she was glad this door’s mechanics were at least placed low enough to the ground that she wouldn’t need to sit on anyone’s shoulders again. She just wanted to get this done as quickly as possible and then leave.

“Fine,” Sam relented. “But you have to admit, the ruins aren’t a great place to be in the middle of Winter.”

Hannah registered the pause before Arlo replied, but only because she had expected it. Sam and Remy might not know the reason why Arlo preferred not to go into the ruins--not only in Winter but any time of the year--but Hannah did, and it wasn’t because it was cold.

“I’m sure the Builders would agree with you, but they still depend on the ruins for their livelihood. So they stay open.”

_ The Builders. _ It sounded so sterile when he said it like that; like these ‘Builders’ were some sort of foreign creature that he preferred to keep at an arm’s length. And judging by how he’d acted towards her lately, maybe that sentiment wasn’t completely off the mark. 

She clicked the last cog in place and closed the protective casing, getting up on her feet as the door slid open smoothly in front of her. 

“There, all done,” she said as she looked down to brush some dirt off her thighs. “Let’s get out of--eeeek!”

Something slammed into her, knocking her to the rocky ground. She closed her eyes at the impact, but forced them open again as she felt a weight settle onto her chest, and found herself face to face with a Bandirat, its whiskers twitching as it bared its teeth in preparation to bite.

Before she could even fully take in the gravity of the situation, a foot shot forward from her left and kicked the creature off her. Hannah rolled in the other direction, hearing as the rat snarled behind her, then as it squeaked in pain before finally falling completely silent. 

“Close the door!” Arlo barked, and Hannah could see Sam rush forward out of the corner of her eye, and then she heard the door whoosh closed.

She rolled onto her back again with a groan, frowning when Arlo’s face came into view, his body crouching beside her. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she was staring straight up at him, she might have missed the tiny little crease between his eyebrows as he studied her face the way he always used to do when he was worried about her. 

“Hannah,” he breathed, and she drew for air, not knowing how to react, because it had been so long since he last spoke her name, but then he solved her dilemma by tearing his gaze away and carefully grabbing her arms, lifting them towards him and turning them over in front of his eyes.

“You don’t look hurt,” he said, and now his face and voice had returned to their newly normal impassion. “Do you feel ok?” 

She swallowed down a lump in her throat, trying not to show her emotions on her face as she said, “No. No, I don’t.”

He looked back at her face again, meeting her eyes, and for a second, she almost thought she could see something, some remnant from their time as close friends, and she wanted so badly to capture that small spark, to hold it close to her chest and never let it go, but then his face closed off again. 

“You better head back to town and go see Xu, then,” he said as he released her arms and stood. “Remy, can you escort her back? Sam and I will make sure there are no more rats around.”

“Aye, Boss.”

She slowly sat up, watching as Arlo walked over to Sam, his back turned fully to her still sitting on the ruin floor. Sam gave her a worried glance, but then turned her attention to Arlo as he started talking to her in a low voice. Hannah could feel tears welling up beneath the surface, but she held them down, enduring the sharp pain behind her nose as she closed the dam. Just a few months ago, he would have insisted to be the one who brought her to the clinic. Not because he didn’t trust his teammates, but because he just cared that much about her. And now… Now it seemed like the only reason he’d even checked on her was because it was his job.

Two strong hands reached beneath her armpits and helped her up, then pulled her into a half hug as they led her towards the entrance of the ruins. She allowed herself to lean into Remy, closing her eyes as they walked, because at least she knew she could always trust him. He wasn’t hot and cold like Arlo; he was stable and warm, and not just because it was his duty to be, but because he _ did _care about her. They’d never really been close, but he was just the type of person who looked out for everyone.

“Hey, it’s ok to be upset,” he murmured when they were at a safe distance from the others. “If you want, I can help you draw a picture of his face to stick to your training dummy.”

Despite herself, Hannah giggled, which also allowed a sob to escape out. At least she wasn’t imagining things, then. At least she wasn’t the only one who saw how Arlo was pulling away from her. It didn’t soften the blow, but it did make her feel slightly less alone.

* * *

January 15th, Wednesday 

Hannah leant forward with a sigh, her breath evaporating into a wisp of smoke around her face. Resting her elbows on her knees, she reached up to grab her head with her hands--made large and bulky by the home-knitted mittens--and stare down into the snow. She sniffled, blinking away insistent tears that just wouldn’t stop pushing to get out. 

So this was it, then. He hadn’t shown. 

Despite everything, she’d still believed that he would come. That he would show up. Because even if they weren’t as close as they used to be, even if they hadn’t talked one on one in a long time, this was still his job, and she’d thought for sure that if she left a note on his desk, he would--

The telltale sound of a horse snorting somewhere around the corner made her straighten instantly, wiping at her eyes with the coarse, bulky mittens as she stood up to face him. Spacer walked out from next to the cave, snorting again as Arlo pulled him to a stop and dismounted in one graceful move. He patted the horse’s neck, murmuring a secret in his ear, then grabbed a lantern from his saddle before turning to Hannah.

“H-hi,” she said, wincing at how small she sounded.

Arlo pursed his lips, tutting absent-mindedly as his gaze moved from her to the mouth of the cave. Then he sighed. “Better get to it.”

He walked past her into the cave, and she could only stare after him, wondering whether it would be weird of her to just tell him it was ok, she didn’t need help anymore, and then dash back home and hide under the covers. But then she saw him stop right inside, glancing over his shoulder as if to check whether she was following, and she quickly started after him. He lit the lantern and raised it in front of him before walking deeper inside, and she tried to stay as close behind him as he could without invading his personal space as they walked past the first couple of ghosts billowing above their whirring fans. She glanced up at the shut-off mechanism for the ghosts, far up on one of the walls, opening her mouth to ask if they could reach for it, but then he’d already walked past, and she decided to suck it up and deal. As long as she stayed close to Arlo… she’d probably be fine.

As they walked past the table with the scare soakers, Arlo grabbed one in his free hand, then shot two of the ghosts ahead of them, and Hannah took a deep, shuddering breath. Ok. He might be closed off, but he would keep the ghosts away from her, at least. He still cared. Right? Otherwise he wouldn’t do that? 

When they reached the generator, Arlo leant against the wall nearby, staring blankly into the room while she started working. The sounds of her tools clanging against the mechanical parts echoed back ominously from all directions, and just to distract herself from the cold creeping up along her spine, she decided to try striking up conversation.

“So is work busier this time of the year?” she asked, because that might explain at least in part why he’d been so distant lately.

“Hm,” he mused distractedly, “no, not more than usual.”

Oh…

He didn’t follow that up, just stood there in silence, so she tried again. “I’m sorry for dragging you with me in here again,” she said, trying her best to sound light-hearted. “I know you don’t like being in caves.”

“It’s my job,” he said curtly.

Her next breath hitched in her throat, the wrench missing its mark and clanging loudly against the side of the generator. She squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth as she tried not to think about what he’d told her the first time they came here together.

_ ‘I learnt to deal with my fears, because it’s part of my job.’ _

She lowered her head so that her hair covered her face, raising one hand to wipe at her eyes again. That’s right. It was silly to be scared of ghosts. He’d learnt to deal with his fears, but she still hadn’t, even though it was definitely part of her job to come here and look after the generator. If she couldn’t even go to Amber cave by herself, what value did she have as a Builder?

She bit her lip as a silent sob slipped out, doing her best to hide her face from Arlo. She could do this. The generator was in good condition, she just had to tighten this last screw, and it didn’t matter that she could barely see anything through her tears, because she’d tightened so many screws in her life she could do it blindfolded, and--_ there. _

She closed the maintenance box and turned around, not even bothering to say anything as she started walking back towards the entrance of the cave, because she could hear him shift by the wall and follow behind her, and she would _ prove _to him that she could do this, that she could do her job just like he could, that she didn’t need his protection--

A ghost swooped in from the side, stopping right in front of her, and she yelped, heart thudding in her chest as she scrambled backwards. An arm wrapped around her from the back, pulling her against a wide chest as another arm extended past her to shoot the ghost with the scare soaker. The white menace moved away again, and Hannah swallowed, trying to calm her panicked breathing and regain control of the situation. She expected Arlo to pull away again, but he kept his arm around her chest, and she could feel his heart racing against her back and his hot breaths puffing against her temple, but why? Why wouldn’t he move away?

His fingers clenched her shoulder, and that was it. She couldn’t take it anymore. The dam broke and the tears came flowing and she had to escape, _ now_. 

Tearing out of his grip, she bent down to grab the lantern he’d dropped on the floor, then marched forward, not really caring whether he followed her or not. Because she was cold, she was exhausted, and she was miserable, and nothing he said or did could change that.


	25. Snowballs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The annual snowball competition rolls around, and Hannah is excited to join in. Until things don’t go quite as she expected them to

January 21st, Tuesday

Hannah wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and face then stuck her gloved hands back in her armpits as she trudged across the field behind her house to the snowball fight. There was snow everywhere, and the clouds promised more soon. And while she would normally love the beauty of it all today was, today was not a happy day for her.

Arlo hadn’t shown up yesterday. He’d sent Sam with food for her instead. Or that was what Sam had told her at least, but she had her doubts. Unlike back in October and November when she had shown up with a bag of food and an apology from Arlo, yesterday’s delivery had no note, no silly face drawn on the wrapping, and most tellingly, it was what she normally ate at the Round Table on girl nights. With none of the extras she normally favoured and now realised she’d grown to expect from Arlo. 

Just like last month, when Nora had shown up with a bag of food and her hot water bottle, cheerful smile not quite masking the small wince when she’d said Arlo’s name.

But it was fine. Arlo was obviously going through something right now, and needed some space, she reasoned as she approached the crowd of people gathered around the sign up table. She was just being sensitive right now and over thinking things, and he’d be back to his usual, cheerful, talkative self soon. And then things would go back… to… normal...

She stopped walking, staring at Arlo. Arlo who was cheerfully talking to Nora. He had one arm wrapped around her holding her close, rubbing along her arm as his other hand waved about as he obviously told her about something he’d done lately, the subtle grin that was as much as he allowed himself in public on his lips clear as day to her as he looked at their mutual friend.

She stared at him, almost hungrily. It had been so long since she’d seen him smile, heard him talk freely. It was like a breath of fresh air. And he wasn’t wearing his uniform, instead wearing casual clothes, and she almost melted at the sight. Brown jacket zipped all the way up. Looser, thicker trousers than normal which still showed off his legs, with huge pockets down the side. He had a few belts and pouches on, but not as many as normal. And the woollen hat with a fluffy pompom perched on his head, which matched his gloves and a scarf wrapped round his neck, was almost too good for words.

He must be over whatever had been wrong then, if he was here on his day off, just like she’d hoped. And maybe, maybe that meant she’d been too harsh, and he had truly been too busy to come see her yesterday, and send her food. And now, now they could go back to normal.

She stepped forward again, planning on going to him, asking how he was. But her movement must have caught his eye, because he looked at her, and something inside her twinged as the smile fell from his face. It was like a shutter had come down. All that happiness, all that life she’d seen in him vanished in a second, and he was the stony, impassive Captain of the Civil Corps she’d got used to seeing lately.

He pulled his arm away from Nora, leant down to say something to her quietly, then turned and walked away. Not even sparing Hannah another glance as she stopped next to her friend.

“Oh, bye then Arlo. I’ll see you later,” Nora called, sounding confused but happy, before turning to look at Hannah. But she couldn’t look at the other woman, too busy watching Arlo walk away.

Because what was that?

Did what she’d just seen mean that he wasn’t blanking everyone like she’d thought? Was he, was he really only blanking her?

A quick look at Nora, who was watching her with concern and sympathy, bouncing on her toes and wrapping her arms around herself against the cold, but looking otherwise fine and normal and like everything was ok, made her think that Arlo hadn’t been off with her, even a little bit.

So, so that really did mean…

Gale’s voice rang out across the crowd, calling everyone together to start the competition. Nora wrapped her hands around her arm and tugged, still smiling, and Hannah let herself be pulled along. She’d stop thinking about it. No use getting upset now. She was here to have fun, get moving and be distracted from her pain after all. No sense giving herself more to deal with right now.

She stayed next to Nora, linking their arms together and huddling close to warm each other up. Nora was a good friend, she’d always been there when she needed her, always willing to help and do anything at all. She was kind and generous and amazing, and it wasn’t her fault that Arlo was still talking to her. She wasn’t going to be angry at or jealous of her friend because someone else was being a dumbass.

Hannah was called first, and she made herself smile and laugh as she untangled from Nora and walked to one of the free defences that had been set up, right at the back. She crouched down behind it and waited, looking over at who was next to her and sharing a grin with Alice. Being right at the back meant that while they were worth more points, it was less likely they’d actually get hit. Which was fine with her.

The whistle blew, and she leant to the side, starting her quiet count of twenty and checking the front to see who was up first.

Jack. Jack who was looking at the different people, determined and fierce, and she saw the glint in his eye as Alice leant out from her defence. She wondered what completely reasonable thing Alice had done to annoy her brother this time as she ducked back, letting the grin form on her lips. They normally got on so well, but they  _ were  _ still siblings, and the occasional spat was to be expected she knew. It was probably more trouble he’d got into with Toby that she’d had to punish him for, given the grumblings she’d heard at the Round Table the other day.

She played her part, keeping count and ducking up and to the sides in a semi predictable way. She heard laughs and groans and yelps as the other people got hit, and grinned wider when a snowball passed right over her head just as she was about to pop up one time. She watched Alice brush some snow off her shoulder, smiling even as she sighed and shook her head, before propping herself up and--

And getting hit straight in the face with a large, solid snowball. Right at the top of her nose, almost in the corner of her eye. It mostly broke apart, and the soft fluffy flakes filled her mouth as she gasped in pain as something more solid rolled down her face and bounced off her knee.

She fell backwards with a thump, coughing violently as she tried to clear her mouth, her eyes starting to stream and pain lancing through her head when her gloved fingers brushed against her face. She tried to carefully feel her nose, wanting to check if it was broken, because this level of pain couldn’t mean anything else, right? But her sense of touch was dulled by her gloves, and her eyes were streaming too badly for her to see if there was blood on her fingers where she’d just wiped whatever was dripping out and and and--

A cold hand gently touched her cheek before sliding down to under her chin, lifting her face up as whoever it was lay their other hand on the other side of her face. She felt a thumb settle under her eye, not close enough to spark the pain thankfully, and then they started talking.

“It’s ok Hannah, it doesn’t look like anything is broken or bleeding,” Alice soothed, and she blinked her eyes open to blurily see the flower shop owner crouching in front of her. “But you’ll probably have an awful black eye. I’m so, so sorry that Jack hurt you, he didn’t mean to I’m sure. I’ll talk to him later about being more careful and--”

Hannah reached out and laid a hand on Alice’s shoulder, trying to smile but stopping and biting her lip when it pulled on the skin around her nose.

“It’s fine Alice, I don’t blame him at all. Hitting me is the whole point of the game, right? There must have been a lump of ice inside it or something, for it to hit as hard as it did, nothing he could have known about.”

Shadows fell over her as the other players came over, wanting to check on her, and she tried to laugh, wave them off, because making such a big fuss over being hit was just silly.

But then in the gap between Martha and Paulie, she saw Arlo.

Arlo standing off to the side with the spectators. Further back even, since Mei and Antoine had both taken steps forward towards her, looking concerned, Mei’s camera hanging around her neck instead of in her hands like normal.

Arlo standing there, arms crossed, expression almost blank as he looked at her. His head tilted sideways, ever so slightly, and maybe there was a hint of worry on his face, behind his clenched jaw. But after she blinked a few times and rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear some of the water that was still leaking from the pain, whatever she thought she saw was gone. And she watched as he huffed, and turned away from her, looking out at the other set up and appearing bored and unconcerned. Which was, which was…

Which was fine.

She made herself stand up, laughing off people trying to help her and calls for Dr Xu. It was fine, lucky shot, extra points for Jack, she laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair where he was now hanging on to Alice looking worried. She was going to go home now though, sorry for dropping out. She made her way through the pleasantries, nothing she said sounding quite right to her own ears but obviously good enough for everyone else there since no one objected or pushed the issue.

She turned and started to walk away, back across the fields to her home, thinking.

Because that was it. He’d finally made how he felt obvious in a way she couldn’t ignore.

He was ignoring her. Only her. He was ignoring and avoiding her and going out of his way to be cold, and she couldn’t brush it off, couldn’t excuse it as a bad day, or week, or even a bad month, not after this. 

She had been laughing off and forgiving him not training her anymore, even as Remy’s excuses got thinner and thinner. 

She had excused his behaviour in the ruin, telling herself that he was busy and stressed and she hadn’t really been on many missions like that with him and the others, so she didn’t actually know what he was normally like during them to compare fairly. 

She had bit her lip and rationalised how he’d acted when she’d asked him to go to Amber Island cave with her. Because maybe that had just been a bad time and he’d been too polite to tell her, but he still cared which is why he showed up. That he hadn’t just shown up because “he’s the Captain and he always keeps his word”.

No. No more excusing him. No more trying to think the best. He’d made himself perfectly clear, when he didn’t even look to make sure she was ok. Didn’t make any effort to approach her, to check she wasn’t actually hurt, even as everyone else around her had hurried over to check.

She heard a shout behind her, and stopped to turn and look.

Oaks, Emily, and Nora. All running across the field towards her, looking worried and concerned and out of breath from the fact that they had ran to get to her. To check on her.

And her eyes started to well up again, and she let them, taking large breaths to try and calm down as they reached her and reached out to touch her. Oaks throwing an arm around her shoulders, Nora holding her face and gently turning it so she could see where she’d been hit better, and Emily at her other side, hissing in sympathy and already talking about making a cream which would help with the pain and keep the bruising down.

She didn’t need Arlo. If he didn’t want to talk to her, then fine. He didn’t have to talk to her. And she didn’t have to talk to him either. She had other friends in town. Other people who cared about her, who would run across snowy fields to make sure she was ok.

She was fine without him.

She didn’t need him. 

She was fine.


	26. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, Arlo’s solution to his problems was going to come back and haunt him. He just hadn’t anticipated that it would be in the form of an officer with a spoon

February 18th, Tuesday 

Arlo walked into the Round Table, stamping the water off his shoes and shaking his head to send droplets flying everywhere. The weather couldn’t decide if it wanted to start towards Spring or not yet, meaning it was truly miserable out there. Almost bad enough to match his mood, he thought sardonically. He scanned the other people out of habit, eyes skipping over Mars, Carol, and the girls, all eating and talking quietly in a booth. Albert and Mint sitting at the big round table in the centre, leaning over a set of plans with Gust leaning on the back of their chairs. And Sam in the fenced off bit, table covered with desserts and a large mug dripping with cream which was probably the heated chocolate milkshake she favoured when it was cold when… she…

Shit.

If Sam was eating every sweet thing in sight, then that meant it was her “time”. And that meant it had most likely been Hannah’s days ago. And shit!

He stood in the entryway of the restaurant, staring blindly towards his friend as his mind raced. Because damn. He’d missed it. Going to comfort Hannah each month had become their thing. He’d learnt all her little tells for how she was feeling, learnt to guess which food she’d want. He’d gotten so good so quickly at knowing her, how had he not realised that she was…

He hadn’t realised because he hadn’t been near her. He hadn’t been talking to her, hadn’t spent any time with her, hadn’t even been _ looking _at her if he could help it outside of his work. And she’d made things so easy lately, given how she’d stopped trying to talk to him.

And he realised with a feeling of horror, that he had missed more than just this one. He knew he’d gotten Sam to take her something in October, had drawn things on the wrappers to cheer her up, even if he couldn’t face her himself. So, he knew he’d done that for October, and, and November, maybe? But shit, that then left December, January, and the other day…? 

Movement ahead of him snapped him back to reality, and he found Sam staring holes in him from across the room, face unusually somber as she jabbed her fork at the seat opposite her. He felt the urge to flee, run back to the Corp building and lock himself in his room, and Sam’s eyes narrowed at him as if she’d read his mind. She stuck her fork in her apple pie and slapped her hand on the table, half standing up from her seat. He winced internally, keeping his face bland as he noticed the men at the round table giving him sympathetic looks from the edge of his vision, and walked across the room to sit on the long bench opposite her. Better to do this now, and not let her really build up to anything.

She glared at him while she sat and broke off another piece of pie to angrily bite, and he dropped his gaze to the table, resting his hands in front of him. Because while she hadn’t said anything yet, he already knew he deserved whatever she _ was _going to say. 

“You’re a complete jerk, you know that?”

He felt his jaw clench despite his attempts to not react. Straight to it then. She went on, in an even, quiet tone that barely reached him, and he was suddenly thankful Mars and his family were here, otherwise he knew she’d be screaming at him full force.

“You’ve messed up. And I’ll admit, I don’t know everything that’s gone on between you two, since you’re both being stubborn about keeping whatever mess you’ve got yourselves into _ to _ yourselves, but I think I know enough. You’ve been blanking her. You’ve been acting like she isn’t worth the time of day, and ignoring her whenever you can, and you have been a _ jerk_.”

He nodded, unclenching his fists to reach out and grab a napkin and twist it in his fingers, just to have _ something _ to distract himself with while he listened.

“Nora and I took her food the other day,” she continued, almost sounding pleasant, and he snapped his head up to look at her. She was looking at him intently, fork held up near her face with a piece of apple skewered on the tines.

“We took her some of her favourites, and told her you were too busy to come yourself. Again. Because I took her food last month too, even though you didn’t ask me to. And Nora looked after her the month before that. Well, tried to. She didn’t let either me or Nora stay with her, not the way I know she let you sit with her every other time last year. She didn’t want our hugs, or hair strokes, or for us to read to her.”

Arlo tried to swallow, but found he couldn’t. He almost wished she’d just stab him with the fork that she was waving idly in the air, he was pretty sure it’d hurt less than this. Because not only had he hurt Hannah, but from the sound of it he’d ended up hurting both Sam and Nora as well on some level.

“But that’s it, _ Captain_,” she whispered, putting an edge on his title which he more than deserved. “I’m not going to cover for you anymore.”

He nodded, looking at the napkin as it started to tear under his fingers. 

“You need to fix this, because you’re the one who broke it. I saw her trying to talk to you, and you just blanked her and walked away. I know you haven’t been training her, and I saw how you acted when she got scraped in the ruin. And I heard how you were at the snowball fight, when she got hurt. I’m surprised she doesn’t have whiplash from how you act around her. She was making an effort with you, so I think it’s only fair that you make one too, one way or the other. You need to either tell her to stop, that’s it, friendship is over, so you can both actually move on. So you both aren’t stuck in this awful limbo you’ve been in for _ four months _ now. Or you need to actually talk to her, actually _ try _ to go back to being her friend.”

She stopped talking, angrily biting the apple she’d been waving around and immediately scooping up another bite to shove in her mouth and he clenched his jaw again. Because she was right. Damnit, she was right.

He’d pulled back too far. He knew next to nothing about her right now, what she was up to, what she was working on, how she’d been. He knew more about Higgins than Hannah, which was wrong on several levels.

Dropping the remains of the napkin on the table, not sure when he’d shredded it to confetti, he lifted both hands to scrub at his face.

He didn’t want to let her go. Not talking to her was hurting too much, even when he told himself it didn’t. He could talk to her, no, he _ would _talk to her. Try to apologise, clear the air. Maybe see if they could start over, from scratch if necessary. Take things slower this time. Set some boundaries.

He sighed deeply, and heard Sam scoff at him around her dessert. He’d go talk to her, first chance he got. Or the first chance he could catch her alone. He didn’t need an audience for what he wanted to say. Next time she called out to him, he’d be more than coldly civil. He’d ask her how she was doing. He’d make time for her. But then, she hadn’t called out to him in, who knows how long now he thought about it. So maybe he’d stop by her house if he saw her in her yard, next time he passed it? Or happen to stop by, if he knew she was going somewhere, like a ruin maybe? 

He could do this. He could fix this. He could make everything better and stop hurting so much. If she wanted to, that was. If she hadn’t given up waiting for him to stop being a colossal, moronic arsehole.

Everything would be back to normal soon. Everything would be fine.

* * *

February 22nd, Saturday 

Hannah grinned as she leant her shoulder against the door, hand reaching out to turn the handle as she looked back at her friend.

“Well you could do that, but somehow I don’t think yo-EEEEP!”

She squealed as the door gave way behind her, and she stumbled backwards as her arms flailed, her back hitting a solid chest as an arm settled around her waist. She hung there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, then got her feet back under herself and stood up, pulling away as she turned to thank her saviour.

Only for her smile to freeze on her face as she came face to chin with Arlo. Arlo who was looking down at her, bland face showing just the barest hint of surprise and concern and damnit, no, she wasn’t going to look. Wasn’t going to even try to read him.

“Sorry Captain Sir,” she made herself say, feeling slightly robotic as she shifted her gaze to behind him. “My mistake. Shouldn’t have leant on the door.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She stood there as he shifted in front of her, making no effort to move out of the doorway so she could leave. She tried not to watch him from the edge of her vision, tried to just focus on the buildings opposite, but she could see his mouth moving, trying to form words. She could see his expression settle, as if he was building himself up to something.

“Actually Hannah, do you have a few minutes to talk? I have something I want to say to….” She snapped her focus to his face, stunned he’d actually used her name, that he was actually trying to talk to her after how many months of pretending any space she occupied was empty, and a flicker of hope burst to life in her chest that maybe, maybe he was going to talk to her now? Maybe things would be ok between them again? She was staring straight at him, hoping to catch any scrap of emotion or attention he gave her, so was able to watch that spark behind his Captain mask fade away back into a perfectly smooth nothingness he seemed to have perfected as his gaze flickered over her shoulder. “Oh. Evening, Oaks.”

“Evening Arlo. You here for dinner? The smoked meat is extra tasty tonight!”

“The Captain doesn’t like that Oaks,” she said, looking away from him and back to the building again, pushing down the feelings that welled up at the fact she knew that. She knew what he liked and didn’t like, knew what he’d order on different days or after different missions, but it didn’t matter anymore. “If you’ll excuse us Captain, we were just leaving?”

He seemed to hesitate a moment, and a quick glance back to his face even though she knew she shouldn’t, that it’d just hurt her too much, showed him looking between her and Oaks. His mouth was moving as if he was going to say something, and there was something in his eyes that seemed to be pleading with her, asking her to stay, but then he grit his teeth and nodded sharply, and stepped back out of her way. She walked forward, head held high and a bland, meaningless smile pasted on her face. She heard Oaks thank him, then the door click shut. And she finally let her shoulders and head drop as she bit her lip and screwed her eyes closed. Why had that hurt so much?

“Hey, Little Cub. Are you ok?” Oaks’ soothing voice washed over her as she felt his arm settle around her shoulders. And, and no, she wasn’t. But she wasn’t quite sure why, or what she was even upset about at this point.

Because him trying to talk to her had thrown her. After however long it’d been, after everything he’d put her through, he’d just started talking like it was the most natural thing in the world. And she’d been ready to drop everything and listen to him. As if everything that had happened between them, everything she’d told herself and all the walls she’d built in her head and heart hadn’t ever happened. He’d just looked at her with his blue eyes, and she’d been ready to do anything he’d asked. Which wasn’t right. She shouldn’t still be so worked up over him. Especially not at the expense of her friends, at the expense of Oaks who had stuck by her ever since she’d met him. 

Ever since she’d offered to help him gather materials for his trinkets, and he’d shown her the best spots. And then introduced her to Abu, who had immediately taken a liking to her. And then welcomed her into his home, time after time, expecting nothing from her in return, and always being so happy whenever she did get him something.

She’d almost gone back to Arlo and left Oaks alone, just because he’d talked to her, and looked at her like he used to? 

Oaks leant against her side, bringing his other arm up to wrap around her front as he held her gently from the side, and she bit her lip tighter and willed the tears back, swallowed them down, and allowed herself this one last moment to mourn what she’d had.

But it was ok. She had other friends. Friends like Oaks, who was here for her, and desperately needed her help right now.

She reached up and patted his arm, turning her head to smile at him when he pulled away.

“Come on brother bear. Let’s head back to mine and we can finish planning your date. We know Emily likes asteria, which you can always get yourself, but you’ll win extra points if you buy them from Alice and they’re all tied up in a bow. Or, if you really want to woo her, I heard her talking to Sonia about roses the other day…”

She linked her arm through his, ignoring the sad, knowing, sympathetic smile he gave her, and started to lead him back to her home.

She was fine. She _ would _be fine. She’d gotten used to Arlo not being part of her life, even if it broke her heart every time she thought about it. If it made him happier to not talk to her, then she could accept that. She’d gotten used to not flirting with anyone. Not talking to him about random, meaningless things as they relaxed after a hard days work. She hadn’t even asked him to help her yesterday, when she’d had to go back to Haunted cave yet again to fix the power supply. She’d even made herself get used to the taste of the plain herbal mixes again, since she wouldn’t expect him to get her things to sweeten her medicines anymore.

Everything was fine.

And if Arlo really did want to talk to her? Well, he knew where he could find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Stolen Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/53207908).**  
**[Fragile Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/53207785).**  
Thanks for sticking with us through this. The last few chapters were tough, and we aren't quite done with the emotional rollercoaster just yet I'm afraid, but as we've said, there IS a happy ending! We promise!!!  
A_d
> 
> (And also, Oaks is my boy, please don't hate on him too much >__<;;)


	27. Desert Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah heading off to the Desert Ruins to go relic diving means Arlo will finally have a chance to talk to her without interruption or something going wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Cave in / Being buried alive / Minor injuries / Blood

March 7th, Saturday 

"Morning, Nora! Good Morning, Mr Captain Sir." 

Arlo carefully smoothed his face into bland professional politeness instead of the joy he felt that Hannah was actually talking to him first before he turned around to watch her pull Adrien to a stop behind him. He noted her sturdy work trousers and bright orange jacket with the sleeves pushed to her elbows as he scanned up her body before reaching her face. She was smiling widely and radiating joy and light as she looked down at Nora, drawing him towards her even as he made himself resist. Because they weren’t like that anymore.

Though he hoped they might be again soon.

He heard Nora laugh as he nodded up at Hannah casually.

"Morning, Hannah. Where are you off to today?" he asked, proud of the warm, even tone he managed.

"Oh, just popping in to the guild, then I’m off to the desert ruins. I need a couple more pieces for some of my relics, and I'm not planning on leaving until I find them," she answered in the politely bland way she’d taken to using with him recently, which made him want to wince. 

He'd been _ trying _ to talk to her these last two weeks, but things kept happening that got in the way, or people had showed up needing one of them. The person needing Hannah being Oaks, more often than not. Which meant he never got much further than asking if she had time before the conversation stopped. But at least she was looking at him with guarded curiosity, and her lips did twitch into something vaguely resembling the smile she used to give him.

"I hope you've packed your lunch today, I'm not going all the way out there to play delivery girl for you again!" Nora laughed, resting a hand on her horse’s bridle.

He tuned out Hannah and Nora’s banter as he quickly went over patrol routes in his head. He was sure Remy wouldn’t mind swapping routes today, which would mean Arlo would be vaguely near the ruins in a few hours, so it wouldn’t be so strange for him to pop in and check on her. Make sure she remembered to eat her lunch, and wasn’t having problems. 

Going around that time would be a great opportunity to talk to her too, without anything happening or anyone showing up to interrupt. And it was a friendly thing to do. It was something they used to do semi regularly, back before everything went wrong between them at any rate.

“Captain? You still with us Sir, or you up with the space stations?”

He snapped back to reality to find Hannah grinning down at him, though her eyes seemed flat, and damn, he’d missed something. He cleared his throat, fighting down the blush he knew was trying to form.

“Sorry, I was thinking about patrols. What was that?”

“Oh, nothing important. I’ll get out of your hair now. Say hi to Sam for me, Nora. Hope to see you around, Sir.”

She kicked Adrien into motion, and he turned back to Nora to avoid watching her leave, only to find Nora smiling at him in the vaguely exasperated way she’d taken to looking at him with ever since Sam had yelled at him last month. 

“What?” he asked gruffly, clearing his throat and shifting his jacket on his shoulders, but Nora simply smiled more and shook her head.

“Nothing. I’m going up to the Church now, you should hurry and catch up with Remy before he gets too far from town. She doesn’t have her lunch, if you didn’t hear, and knowing her she’ll get distracted and forget to come back to town to eat. She really likes hot stuff, in case you’ve forgotten.” 

She winked at him, and he groaned, feeling the blush he’d been fighting spring to life from his nose to his ears and down to his neck. He hated being predictable, he thought as he turned towards the road to Central Plaza and started to jog, hoping Remy hadn't left town yet.

* * *

Arlo balanced the two packed meals of Supremely Spicy Spaghetti on the saddle before him, nervously fiddling with the wrapping. This was stupid. Even though Nora had said Hannah hadn’t taken lunch with her, and they used to do this regularly, things between them had been so strained for so long, and he wasn’t sure she’d even want to eat with him anymore. He couldn't even think when the last time they'd been properly alone together was, and here he was about to sit with her in the ruins and have a whole meal? This was probably a waste of time, and she’d just be politely stiff with him, or something would go wrong meaning he couldn't start trying to fix things _ again. _Or maybe she’d try to wind him up, and he’d end up frustrated with her like before he pulled back. 

Spacer snorted and turned his head to look back at him, then threw his head as if in agreement, which made Arlo chuckle. What did it say about his life if even his horse felt sorry for him? But still, he already had the food, so there was no harm in at least dropping hers off. No harm in at least _ trying_.

An echoing boom that rivaled the crash from when Ack’s space station fell in the wastelands shattered the calm Spring day. Years of training kicking in, he rode out Spacer's jitters even as he started to check the horizon, tutting as he realised he couldn't see anything from where he was by WOW Industries. He turned Spacer and galloped back to the ridge next to the lift, standing in the stirrups as he quickly looked out over Portia, not seeing anything amiss. Nothing obvious in the wastelands or marshes either. He spun towards the desert and… and... 

His stomach twisted and dropped as he saw the billowing cloud of dust rising up from the tower that marked the entrance to the ruins, clear against the sky and obviously the cause of the sound. He could see it pouring from the holes in the roofs and small streams from various cracks and holes in the structure. He swore, and threw the packed lunches aside as he gripped the reins tightly and kicked his loyal horse into movement, heading straight towards the lift as he started to panic about what could possibly have happened.

* * *

Pulling Spacer to a stop at the bottom of the hill, he panted almost as hard as his horse as he jumped off and started scrambling up it. He could see Adrien dancing around at the top of the hill out of the way of the worst of the murky cloud, which only twisted his gut further as it meant she’d still been in there during the blast, and hadn’t made it back out to calm him in the long minutes it’d taken him to get here. He spared her horse one last glance, hoping he wouldn’t go too far in his panic and run into any Desert Hoppers, before steeling himself and pulling open the door.

He cursed as a thicker roll of dust rushed around him in the backdraft he’d just caused and pulled his bandana up to cover his nose and mouth as he squinted out into the open space.

“Hannah? Hannah, are you in here? Can you hear me? Hannah!” he called as he tried to see anything through the murk, listening for anything other than the sound of shifting dirt and rocks, but if there was a response, he couldn’t hear it.

The visibility inside was awful, but he could see strange holes and buckling across the ruin’s floor, and there was a gigantic crater over by the wall which most definitely hadn’t been there two days ago. Which was as good a place as any to start.

He jumped down from the entrance platform and immediately threw out his arms for balance as the ground shifted under him. He stared in horror as a chunk of floor collapsed, forming a dip that trailed off a short distance before merging with what he could see was a man made hole in the floor. The tunnels the builders had made were caving in. That was… bad. If Hannah had been in one of the tunnels, then there was no hope of finding her in time, if at all. It was all of his old fears come to life, and his stomach clenched in dread.

He started across the floor, constantly having to check his balance and jump around as where he stood tried to crumble away beneath him as he made his way to what looked like a blast site. _ What had she managed to find down here that would even do that? _ he asked himself as he tried not to think about what a blast that did that to rocks and stone would have done to her.

He finally stumbled to the edge of the crater and peered anxiously down into it. He could see the outline of countless tunnels leading in all directions around what looked like one of the abandoned rooms, with a large swirl of loose dirt and sand slowly trickling into it at one end through a jagged hole of metal. His breath caught in his throat as he stared, the stories his grandmother told him playing back in vivid detail, before he grit his teeth and shook his head. No. The fact that things were still moving at all forty minutes after whatever had happened must mean there was space in there to move to, and thus air, and his heart fluttered with a faint hope at the thought that Hannah might actually still be alive after all. He had to focus on that.

“Hannah! Please, if you can hear me, say something!” he called, desperate. But there was still no response.

He started forward, heart racing and crouching down to keep his balance as everything around him shifted and started to roll down the sides towards the gaping black hole. Shit, if he wasn’t careful he’d start something and make everything worse. He backed up slowly, looking around and trying to think what he could possibly do, when he paused. Was that someone calling his name?

He held his breath for a moment, then two, listening hard even as he watched more pieces of the crater’s walls break away and tumble down, but then he finally made out Sam and Remy’s voices calling his and Hannah’s names. He relaxed, ever so slightly. It wasn’t Hannah’s voice like he’d hoped for half an instant, but it _ was _backup. He stood up to look back towards the entrance, finding his friends silhouetted against the doorway.

“Sam! Remy! Over here! The tunnels are collapsing so watch your steps, but hurry!”

He crouched down again, scanning the sides and planning his way down. He wanted his teammates to hurry, but he also didn’t want them to fall in any sinkholes that formed as more and more tunnels gave way around him, so he bit his tongue and clenched his fists.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Shit Arlo, what happened? I saw Adrien outside, is Hannah in there?” Sam’s fingers gripped his jacket as she looked down at the giant hole before them, her voice muffled by her hat which she was holding over her mouth.

“I don’t know, but she was coming here today, and given the size of that hole and the way the metal edges are blown out, I’d say it’s likely.”

“You don’t know if she’s in there? Arlo, what are you planning?”

Arlo looked up at Remy, who was wearing his gas mask and staring at him with worry.

“Given how the worst of the collapse is around that room, I’m betting that’s where the explosion was. And given how whatever was in there survived this long without going off, something must have changed to set it off now. I have to go in and check. Don’t try to stop me.”

“We don’t want to stop you Arlo, we just don’t want you to get stuck down there too. Remy, do you think your rope is long enough to tie to him if we stay up here so we can pull him out after?”

“Maybe if we tie several together it might be,” his friend said as he dropped to the floor, swinging his bag off and reaching inside it while Arlo switched his sight back to the hole, impatient to start searching but acknowledging the valid safety point they made. The steady trickle of debris falling into the gap had slowed even further since when he’d arrived, but he knew as soon as he started down the slope he’d set off a mudslide which he could get swept up in, or which could potentially fill the hole and bury everything inside, including him. And getting out again would be near impossible without some sort of help.

“Right, this should be long enough now, but you’ve still gotta be careful going down, ok? Don’t do anything stupid Captain, and let us know straight away if you need help.”

A loop of rope dropped over his head and he lifted his arms to get it tucked under them, shifting the slip knot within arm’s reach to his side and pulling it tight.

“Understood. I want you both to stay back from the edge of this. There’s no use risking all of us.”

“Don’t talk like that you goof,” Sam said, voice unusually somber. “You’re going to be fine.”

He met her eyes and saw her falter and look away, busying herself with wrapping the other end of the rope around her hands, then looked to Remy who simply nodded sharply. He turned from them and crouched back by the edge of the hole, and slid over.

He swore as he immediately lost his balance, one leg jutting out in front of him as he slid down the side in a wave of loose mud and sand at an alarming speed. He threw his hands out to try and slow down, but there was nothing solid enough to grab onto. Just small rocks and sharp things that sent stabs of pain through his fingers and palms through his gloves. He scanned the shortening gap between him and the edge of the blasted metal hole with a critical eye, and shifted himself on his back leg still folded beneath him. 

“Jumping in four, three, two, one!”

As soon as his front foot touched the solid metal of the edge of the hole he pushed off with his back, sending himself jumping over the sharp edges which curved outward and into the clear space in the centre. 

He landed on top of a high pile of dirt, but it gave way and he went skidding into the dark interior, and he cursed as he slammed sideways into something solid. The ground under him continued to shift as he righted himself, and he pulled his flashlight from his leg pouch, flicking it on and scanning the area.

The room was filled more than he’d thought, he realised with dread. The hole he’d come in through didn’t seem to be the only one caused by the blast, judging by the other piles of growing dirt he could see. There was a bank of sparking and blackened machinery along one wall, with pieces of metal imbedded in all the walls and ceiling. What looked to have been an internal divide was half destroyed, and his torch beam skipped over more cracks in the exterior walls too. This was definitely where whatever went wrong had happened.

He felt his breathing pick up as he started to panic. If Hannah had been in here, there was no way she’d gotten out unhurt. He turned in place again, thoughts getting stuck on the large jagged things sticking from the walls casting shadows in the erratic electric flashes, the giant piles of dirt that were still growing, and the rising panic that he’d never find her in time. If he found her at all.

“Hannah! If you’re here say something,” he called, dropping the torch beam lower to point at the piles of dirt. “Please, please Hannah...”

Something moved from further inside the structure, a deliberate clang distinctly different to the gentle trickle of the steadily filling room, and he stumbled forward towards a small patch of what looked like level ground behind the now half size wall. Throwing out a hand to catch himself, he pulled away with a hiss of pain and a hand shake when it connected with some component which sparked at him, but he ignored the numbness to spin his torch around. The beam of light jumped over an irregular and moving shape through a blackened doorway, past the thick heavy door swinging by only one hinge. He spun the light back and moaned when it picked up the bright orange of the jacket Hannah'd been wearing that morning as she dragged herself down a corridor.

In only a moment he’d run over and pushed the barrier out of the way, wincing slightly as it fell off completely with a loud clang. The flickering light from damaged bulbs in the ceiling illuminated a long, wide crack high on the wall stretching from inside the blasted room. It was allowing dirt to flow in on this side of the doors thick barrier too and the floor was gritty under his feet as he hurried towards Hannah and dropped to his knees, letting go of the torch as he leant down so his head was level with hers. He made soothing noises when she whimpered and collapsed on her side, her fingers twitching out towards him while her lashes fluttered.

“Hannah! Hey hey hey, it’s ok. It’s ok, shhh, shh. Oh Peach, Hannah. It’s ok. You’re ok now.”

She made a noise in the back of her throat as his palm settled against her cheek, her lashes tickling his fingers, and he almost laughed in relief as he tried to catch her eye.

“Hey, it’s ok. Here, look at me?”

He let his training kick in as he quickly scanned her. Covered in dirt from dragging herself through it, and from not being able to avoid more as it fell it seemed, which meant any injuries she had weren’t immediately apparent. Incredibly pale under the layer of grime, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused, and quickly closed again with another whimper that sounded like his name, but it was enough for him. Because she was alive!

Fingers moving to check her pulse, he let out a silent sigh when he found it was weak, but steady, if too fast. Which wasn’t great but better than what some part of him had been expecting. He moved the backs of his fingers to her mouth next, holding them just under her nose, and while he knew she’d just been moving and making sounds, it took far too long for him to feel anything now for him to be happy. And even as he focused it seemed to start slowing even more.

He wanted to lift her up, move her somewhere flatter so he could check her properly, but he had to make sure there were no major injuries first. Because what if she was hurt? Given the destruction in here and the way she’d been dragging herself instead of walking or even crawling, it was entirely possible she had broken bones, or internal injuries, or been hit with debris, and moving her risked making things worse. 

He smiled grimly, and he allowed himself a second, just the one, to breathe deep and centre himself.

Because this was a training mission. This wasn’t Hannah. He wasn’t in the ruins, in an abandoned room filling with dirt. He was back at the Corps building. He could be cool, calm, collected. Captain of the Civil Corps who had a job to do.

His hands moved over her gently. Carefully checking along her spine and neck. His fingers pressed lightly against the back of her head, ignoring the small sounds she made until they brushed against a damp, squishy spot and he felt his heart stop. He grabbed the torch from where he’d dropped it, angling it at the back of her head and dreading what he’d find. 

A wet patch surrounded the base of her ponytail, dark against her hair with the harsh torchlight pointed at it. He pulled his bandana down and stuck the end of the torch in his mouth, needing both hands to start pulling her hair ties out so he could see what sort of injury he was dealing with, only to pause as the smell hit him. That, that didn’t smell like blood...

The ties pulled free, and her loose hair fell to hang to the floor, and he watched as the pen that she always kept in her hair clattered to the ground, dark cracks running along the casing. Ink. The back of her head was covered in ink. It was probably all ink, and she was fine!

He gently lifted a section of her hair and felt along the back of her skull. No cuts or gashes, no hidden injuries that he could find. Satisfied that it really was just ink, he went back to checking the rest of her, running hands along her sides to check ribs and stomach, before moving down to hips, legs, and back up to arms. When he was as sure as he could be that it was safe to do so, he leant over her again, letting himself pause to gently stroke her cheek as he took the torch from his mouth.

“Hannah? I’m going to roll you over now, ok? Don’t try to fight it, just let me move you.” He bit his torch again, needing his hands free, and placed one on the back of her neck to steady her as he slowly rolled her prone, trying to ignore the small pained whimper she let out, and the way her entire face screwed up as the light from his torch hit her. He hated that he was hurting her, but he couldn’t think about that right now.

He ran another check, now she was flat and he could reach more of her, and he winced as he saw the trails of blood and smudges of ink he was leaving before he shoved that feeling back down, because this was _ training_. Worrying about blood wasn’t part of the job. Sam had gone overboard with the face paint was all.

She seemed fine. No pieces of metal sticking out of her or burn marks. Nothing major broken he could find. Nothing indicating internal injuries either as far as he could tell. Just a weak pulse and shallow breathing that was significantly slower than when he’d first found her. Ideally he’d keep her flat, get Sam and Remy to fetch a stretcher, but that wouldn’t be possible. So the best course of action would be to hold her against him.

He could do this.

He took the torch from his mouth and tucked it under his shoulder strap, snug against his bandana so it would keep facing forward and give him some light. 

“Hannah? Hannah, I’m going to pick you up now, ok? Try to stay calm and don’t fight me.”

He waited for a response from her, a twitch or moan like she’d been making, and felt something coil in the pit of his stomach when he didn’t get anything. She just, just lay there. Her unsteady breaths as deafening as the long gaps between them in the otherwise silent corridor.

Sliding a hand under her neck, he held it as straight as he could while he slid his other under her back, slowly shifting her up into a seated position. He leant her head on his shoulder as he crouched next to her, tucking her face against his neck so he could feel and hear her, reassure himself that she was still alive, then cradled the back of her head gently, not wanting to allow it to move if he could help it. Wrapping his other arm around the base of her ribs, he shifted his legs under him to stand, only for his eyes to snag on the pen laying on the ground where her head had been. He stared at it for a second, then reached down to scoop it up and shove it in his belt pouch before he could second guess himself before resetting his hands. Then slowly, carefully, leaning backwards and trying to keep her as straight as he possibly could, he stood up fully. He dropped the hand from her neck to instead slide under her rear, constantly chanting “rescue dummy, just a rescue dummy” under his breath as her head flopped limply on his shoulder and she whined again, her arms twitching at his sides.

He quickly walked back to the room he’d entered by, and heard Sam’s curses about his mental state echoing towards him. Shit, he hadn’t updated them at all since he’d come down here.

“Sam! Rescue plan Six B, don't pull while I get the rope wrapped around her, ok?”

“Arlo! Shit, copy that. Is she ok?”

“She’s alive. Let me focus.”

He leant back against a wall then dropped into a crouch, settling her on his thighs so he could loosen the knot and pull the loop free, taking a moment to stabilize Hannah on his lap as she started to silently tip sideways. He looked down at the top of Hannah’s--no, his rescue dummy’s--head.

His rescue dummy that he had to talk to, since that was part of the plan.

“Hannah, I’m going to wrap a rope around you, it might hurt a little and I’m sorry. I’ve nearly got you out. You don’t need to worry about anything, I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re, you’re going to be ok.”

He didn’t wait for a response, since he doubted he’d get one at this point, and lifted the rope up to ease it over her head, slowly and carefully getting it under her arms. He pulled it snug against him, making sure the trail left off at an angle he’d be able to grab, then shifted round to face the hole. 

“Sam, I need some light towards the hole! I can’t carry her and direct my torch.”

“Coming up, Boss!”

He pulled her as close as he could as he pushed himself up, leaning against the wall for a moment before starting to pick his way across the flat ground towards the newly illuminated hole, stopping the first time his foot tried to slide out under him.

“Sam, Remy! I’m about to start climbing. I need you to start taking up the slack.”

“Got it.” A pause, and then he saw the rope start to move in the glow from above. “Ready when you are, Arlo!”

“Roger! Starting now.” 

He let go of her waist for a moment to reach and grab hold of the rope before wrapping her firmly against his chest again, and started to climb the slope under the hole. It was slippery, and unsteady, and he cursed as he almost slipped to his knee, only righting himself through sheer will and determination to not drop Hannah and hurt her.

The rope leading upwards grew shorter, and he started leaning on it, allowing it to help him keep his footing and climb. He heard a rasping sound and his breath caught, because shit. Of course the rope rubbing against the raw metal edge wouldn’t be good for it. But no, he couldn’t think about that. Not when this was working and he was so close to getting out. So close to getting Hannah safe--no, this _ training exercise _, safe in the Civil Corps building by the balcony next to Remy’s door, over with.

He looked up and saw he was almost to the lip of the hole, and he quickly weighed his options.

“Stop,” he called, and the rope instantly stopped moving.

“Arlo, what’s wrong?” Remy called, the concern clear in his normally level voice.

“Nothing. Just trying to work out how to get her out and over the edge without hurting her.”

“Do you want me to come down to the edge and help?”

“No,” he barked, tilting his head back and wishing he could see outside so he could glare at Sam. “If you come down the side then you’ll fall in like I did and that’d help no one. Just, just give me a second.”

He looked around again, trying to form a plan, but there seemed to only be one option. He grit his teeth, knowing full well this would hurt, and made sure his arm around Hannah’s waist was in the right spot.

“Ok. I’m going to need you to pull as hard as you can as soon as I clear the edge, understand?”

“Arlo, what are you--”

“Understand?” he yelled back, letting a hint of his frustration through.

“Aye Arlo, we’re ready.”

He heard Sam and Remy talking but tuned them out, and reached up to feel along the edge of the blast hole with his fingertips.

It was sharp in places, jagged rips where the force of whatever had happened had blown through inches of metal which had resisted the weight of the earth for hundreds of years. But then he found a relatively smooth stretch. Not wide enough by half for what he wanted to do, but it was enough to get a grip and not immediately slice his hand open.

“Sorry Hannah, this might get you hurt a bit,” he muttered, taking one last second to rub his cheek against her hair, before lining up with the small, smooth and slightly curled safe piece of edge he’d found, and jumping up.

He grunted as all of his and Hannah’s weight hung from his fingers, before he braced himself and pulled himself up. Just a pull up. This was simply an overhand pull up with training weights, nothing more and nothing less. His muscles screamed at him as he rose higher, and then his head had cleared the edge and he heard Sam let out a string of curses, and the rope was pulling again and he felt the tug under his arm as the rope started to take his weight, and he rolled onto his back so he was between Hannah and the edge, grabbing on to the rope again as it pulled so it wouldn’t tighten around them and crush them.

He hissed in pain as he felt the jabs of the edge in his back, hips, and legs, but not stabbing or slicing pains despite the ripping he could hear from his clothes. Which was fine, clothes he could replace. He looked down at Hannah laying on him and shifted his legs, lifting her less well-protected legs up and away from the mess they were being pulled through.

He heard Remy’s warning shout of alarm and ducked his head, hand moving by itself from the rope to cover the top of her head and then a shower of sand flowed over them, racing down the side and into the hole they’d just escaped.

“Sorry, Arlo! The edge gave way, we’re moving back a bit, hold on.”

He grunted, ignoring the bite of the rope in his armpits as he focused on keeping Hannah safe from the things raining down on them. She was deadly silent against him, even as he saw sand and mud flowing over her face where he couldn’t shield her entirely, and he felt his breath catch because shit, just _ shit_! 

They slowly moved up the slope, more and more things falling around them as they went, and he closed his eyes against the small specks that flicked up into his face, and then there was a hand gripping his shoulder and two others under his arm and he was being pulled and he blinked his eyes open to see Sam and Remy crouched over him, tugging at the rope around him and running hands over Hannah.

“She was awake and moving when I found her, but then she’s stopped responding after I started to rescue her. I couldn’t feel any broken bones or any of the things Xu taught us to look for, but she isn’t waking up. She should have woken up properly, especially after that, right? She isn’t, she can’t be--”

“Arlo! Snap out of it and let go of her already. I can’t check her if you keep her against your chest like that.”

He heard Remy’s voice, but it didn’t quite register. Why? Why did Remy need to check her, when he just said he already had? When he already knew why she wasn’t responding. Because he’d not reached her in time and he’d failed her and now she wasn’t going to wake up ever again and he’d lost her and--

Fingers dug into his wrist and yanked his arm away from her head, and a larger hand wrapped around his fingers at Hannah’s side and pulled them back, and then her limp weight was sliding off of him and he panicked, struggling for a second before Sam’s face filled his vision, looking grim.

“By Peach’s spotted boxers Arlo, would you snap out of it already! Remy’s just going to check her before we take her back to town. You need to calm down already, please!”

He stared at her, eyes dancing across her face as she stayed over him, her hands a grounding weight on his shoulders. He twisted his head to the side and saw Remy running his hands over Hannah in the same way he had in the room, expression blank as he focused on his job. Arlo would swear he saw her flinch when Remy pointed his torch at her face, but then Sam was leaning over him again and demanding his attention

“She’s right there you blasted flurpee, and she’s fine. She’s fine, right Remy?”

His eyes snapped up to his friends who had leant back and looked up, already moving to gather his bag.

“She needs to get to the clinic, now. I don’t like that she’s not woken up with everything that’s happened. Sam, you help Arlo out to Spacer and I’ll take her back to tow--”

“I’ll take her,” Arlo shouted, shoving Sam off and sitting up, scrambling across the floor to Hannah’s side. “Spacer’s the fastest, you know that. I’ll get her back.”

“Arlo, your hands are ripped to shreds! You can’t hold your reins, let alone her. Let Remy take her and--”

“I said no! I’m taking her and that’s final,” he snapped, choosing to ignore the looks his teammates shared as he slid his arms under her and carefully lifted her up, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder so it wouldn’t hang at an angle. He stood up and staggered slightly, the pain in his hands and arms he'd not been aware of until Sam pointed it out blinding him for a moment, but then there were hands on his back supporting him and he shook his head clear.

“Let’s go,” he barked, and started moving towards the entrance even as he heard them both curse him and his stubbornness, but it sounded almost distant, vague. Like they were in another room with the door between them shut.

They flanked him as he walked across the ruin’s floor, which he was grateful for when things shifted and they caught him before he could fall or drop Hannah. And then they were outside and leading Spacer to a rock, and he’d somehow jumped up and climbed on his horse, and shit, holding the reins with his blood covered fingers burned and his arms screamed where he held her firmly as she sagged against his chest. But it didn’t matter, because he had to get her back. He had to get her to the clinic. Nothing else mattered. Only Hannah mattered.

The ride back was a blur. Flying over the desert. Someone calling his name as he galloped through South Block. A moment on the bridge where the reins had slipped from his fingers. Her shifting against him, moaning something that sounded like his name. A curse as they hit the stairs from the plaza and the shift in angle nearly tipped her from his arms. But then they were in front of the clinic and he was swinging his leg over Spacer's head and sliding off and shit, that didn't feel good in his knee, but he could ignore it because it _ didn't matter_! And he forced himself up and to the doors, shoving them with his shoulder and already shouting, screaming for help, and then a small spark of hope as Xu was running across the room to him.


	28. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo is reluctant to leave Hannah’s side until he knows she’ll be ok. And after that? Well, then it’ll be up to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Minor injuries / Head injuries / Concussion / Memory loss
> 
> Continues from last chapter

Arlo let his head drop forward as he slumped to lean against the side of the hospital bed. He went to run his hands through his hair, only to tsk in annoyance as the white of the bandages around his hands and arms flashed in his vision again, and he let them drop between his knees. Three hours. 

Xu had immediately checked her over, declaring there was nothing obviously wrong like broken bones or burns, besides a small lump on the back of her head behind her right ear and her entire back was going to bruise; which, given what the abandoned room had looked like when he left, was nothing short of miraculous in his opinion. And the fact that she’d been awake and moving when he found her was excellent news, as was how she’d been responding to noises and light the way she had.

And then Phyllis had kicked him out, promising nothing would happen to her while he went to his room and washed off the dirt and grime and soot and got clean clothes, while she did the same for Hannah. She’d insisted he went, so she could treat his injuries properly when he got back. So he had left her, and had the quickest shower in his life as he ignored the water swirling in the bottom of the tub brown with mud and red with blood. 

His hands and arms had been worse than he’d realised. Phyllis has hissed and fussed when he’d gone back to the clinic before finding another top for him to wear when she saw the one he’d pulled on was covered in blood smears from his hands. He hadn’t cared about the marks on his workout shorts, or the splatters on his sneakers, so she’d sighed and left him. And then he’d sat down next to Hannah’s bed and refused to move again.

He’d listened to Dr Xu and Phyllis talking about the various tests and possible treatments, trying different things and then pulling out books to compare notes in them. And when Nora had brought up a new set of clothes for Hannah, he’d closed his eyes and turned away, a blush trying to burn in his cheeks over the fact he hadn’t even noticed she was only wearing her underwear under the thin hospital blanket.

But through all of that, for the last three hours there’d been no further signs of her waking that he’d seen. Just the occasional twitch or moan or whimper, which seemed to please the medics, but did nothing to reassure him.

He closed his eyes and shifted round so he could drop his head onto the mattress next to her knee. He felt so lost and useless, because there was absolutely nothing more he could do. He couldn’t help her in any way. All he could do was sit here and think of all the things that might be wrong. All the ways this could turn out badly. Think about how he might have seen her smile and heard her laugh for the last time already. Think about how he’d missed his chance to set things between them right.

Because what was the point of being the Captain of the Civil Corps and setting a good example to everyone in Portia, if it meant he’d lost time with her?

She shifted under the blankets again and he sighed, keeping his eyes shut and pretending he couldn’t feel the burning feeling forming behind them.

“‘Lo?” 

“Hannah?” he whispered, sitting up and rolling his neck before looking at her, not wanting to get his hopes up only to find her just moaning and twitching again.

“A‘lo?”

He watched as her eyelids scrunched up then slowly cracked open, shutting again for a second before opening wider, and he stared as glassy hazel eyes blinked slowly at him, small frown between her brows and nose wrinkled as she struggled to focus.

“Hannah,” he gasped, and stared as the frown melted away and a relaxed happy smile stretched across her lips.

“A‘lo,” she murmured again happily, and the hand which had laid on top of the blanket nearest him shifted, fingers twitching as she moved it towards him.

He jumped from his chair, sending it scraping and clattering across the floor, something he immediately regretted as she flinched and whimpered, screwing her eyes shut again. He reached for her fingers and held them gently, breath hitching in his throat as she clutched at him weakly. He went to stroke her hair but stopped himself, leaning on the bed and bending down close to her face instead so she didn’t have to tilt her head back to see him. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry Hannah, it’s ok. Oh thank the stars, you’re finally awake. How’re you, no, I need to get Xu, I’ll just be a sec...”

He was babbling, he knew he was, but the relief he felt was overwhelming and if he didn’t let it out like this then he was scared he might start crying and never stop. Or start kissing her. He tried to smile for her despite his trembling lip, and it must have been good enough as her own smile formed again as her lashes fluttered open.

He gently let go of her fingers and started to pull his hand back, straightening and turning to see if Xu or Phyllis had noticed yet, when she whimpered. A small, broken sound that had him spinning back to her and grabbing her fingers and leaning back down before the noise had fully registered.

“Don’t go A’lo,” she slurred, face screwed up in misery as her fingers twitched against his own. 

“It’s ok, shhhhh, it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere,” he soothed her, flinching himself when Dr Xu entered his field of vision and moved to the head of the bed, without Arlo even realising he’d been approaching.

“It’s good to see you awake Hannah. I need to run a few tests on you, ok? Can you let go of Arlo for a minute so I can check how you’re doing?”

She made a humming noise as her eyes drifted shut even as her fingers squeezed tighter around his own. Arlo glanced up at Xu, not sure what he should do, but the doctor just looked down at their joined hands, then sighed and shook his head with a soft smile.

“Could you move back a bit please Arlo, so I can move around her? Thank you. Hannah, I need you to open your eyes for me now.”

Arlo reached back with his foot for his chair, only to find it missing. He glanced round and found it had fallen over, probably when he stood. He stretched his foot out and slowly worked it closer so he could right it and sit down again without letting go of her fingers. He squeezed back whenever he felt her fingers twitch, and watched her face as she slurred her way through Xu’s questions.

She was awake. She was awake and talking and she looked fine and... And she was calling him Arlo, without a ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir’ tagged on. How long had it even been since he'd heard her call his name like that? She’d called for him as she woke up, and had started to panic when he’d tried to let go, and even now kept looking away from Dr Xu to look down the bed at him with that happy, trusting smile, and tug on his fingers until he smiled and squeezed back. And his heart couldn’t take much more of this, this rollercoaster of worry and fear and joy and relief.

Xu finally straightened and turned towards him, wearing that soft smile again. 

“She’s fine Arlo, or she will be at any rate. As far as I can tell she just has a concussion, but I don’t think it’s anything worse than that, luckily. She needs to stay here for a few more hours so I can keep checking her reactions, but she won’t have to stay here overnight I think, so long as someone can stay with her?”

Arlo nodded as Dr Xu looked at the chart he was holding, flipping pages and scribbling things quickly.

“I know you’re somewhat familiar with concussions already, but I’m just going to write down some things you, or whoever stays with her I mean, need to look out for. And then I’ll come back and go over everything with you. But the most important thing is she will be fine. You can stop worrying now.”

Arlo slumped back in his chair, lifting his free hand to cover his eyes. Thank everything and everyone. He felt Xu pat him on the shoulder, then he heard the doctor walk away and he was left with only his thoughts, and Hannah’s weak grip on his hand.

He dragged his hand over his face, grimacing at the feel of the scratchy bandages as they passed over his cheeks, but left his hand over his mouth as he looked at the troublesome woman he was so worked up over.

She was smiling sleepily, eyes half lidded and constantly trying to slide shut before she forced them back open and focused on him. He noticed that she was trying to tug his hand, so he shifted his chair closer to the bed, leaning forward to see what she would do. Her lips twitched up further as she pulled his hand up to her cheek and leant on it, sighing and letting her eyes fall shut again as her breathing slowed, then evened out. 

His hand moved back up his face to rub at his eyes, ignoring the moisture he found there. Slimy snaillobs, he was so screwed.

* * *

Arlo stepped back from the bed, holding Hannah’s arms steady as she inched closer to the edge, looking down at her feet and wobbling dangerously until Phyllis slid an arm around her shoulders. She slowly slid forward till her toes touched the floor, then pushed herself off, fingers gripping his arms tighter as she squeaked and toppled forward, falling against his chest when he stepped forward again to catch her. 

She moaned as she pushed her forehead into his top, and he bit his lip and breathed through his nose as he tried to remind himself of cold showers and the fact that Phyllis was right there and not even bothering to hide her amused smile.

"Hannah? Come on, stand up straight so we can get you home."

"Nooooooo," she whined, rubbing her cheek against his spare jacket that Phyllis had fetched and moving her hands from his arms to his shoulders, clutching the fabric tightly. “Don’t wanna walk.”

"It might be easier to carry her if she's still this dizzy," Dr Xu commented from behind him, and Arlo could hear the smile in his voice even though he was too busy trying to untangle Hannah from his clothing to look at him. "Probably safer too. Falling could lead to knocking her head again, which could possibly lead to permanent damage."

Arlo closed his eyes and counted to ten, giving up trying to make her let go of his jacket and instead placing his hands carefully on her hips. Which of course meant she immediately slid her hands round the back of his neck and started playing with his hair.

He sighed, dropping his head to rest on hers. Fine. He could carry her. He could scoop her up and… no, he wasn't going to be able to carry her like that. And they were going to ride to hers as Remy was sorting out a way for them to mount Spacer, so piggyback was out. Which left…

He pushed her back to the bed, lifting her up to sit on the edge again, then stood between her legs. Gripping under her thighs carefully, thankful that Nora had brought up her loose holey trousers instead of shorts, he lifted as he leant back and was both pleased and mortified when her legs closed around his waist without prompting and her face immediately settled against his neck, and she giggled happily.

Ignoring the burn he could feel in his face, and the pain from his hands and arms, and the quiet snickers from the medical staff, he hitched her up more securely before he walked out of the clinic. He kept his head high as he looked around, sighing in relief when he saw Remy standing next to a pile of boxes and crates leading up to Spacer’s back.

“Everything ok, Arlo?”

“Fine,” he grunted, trying to keep his voice even. “How am I doing this?”

“Well, I was thinking that you pass her to me and I pass her up to you when you’ve got yourself seated, but I’m guessing we won’t be going that route.”

“I somehow doubt she’ll let us do that,” he said with a sigh, trying to hold her steady when she squirmed against him and staring at the boxes resolutely. “She just won’t let go of me.”

“Nope,” she slurred, rubbing her face against his chin. “Not letting you go ever again.”

Remy quickly raised his hand to cover a cough, though Arlo didn’t know why he bothered to try and hide his laugh. “Aye Captain, whatever you say. Come here now, I’ll steady you as you climb, then I’ll hold Spacer steady. Oh, Miss Phyllis,” he said politely, looking over Arlo’s shoulder back towards the clinic. “Was there something else you needed?”

Arlo looked back to find Phyllis walking towards him, holding out a plain cloth bag towards Remy, who took it and slung it over Arrow’s pommel with a curious look.

“Not as such Remington. Arlo forgot the notes Dr Xu made, and I just wanted to give you her clothes to take home with you. They’re washed and dried already, I managed to get all the mud out.”

“Most kind of you. Say, would you help us get Arlo seated? Hold Spacer’s head while I make sure they don’t fall off the boxes?”

Arlo was about to protest at them talking about him as if he wasn’t there, when Hannah started to mumble something and snuggle closer. He found he couldn’t focus on her words as her lips on his neck sent shivers through his whole body, and then she shifted one of her hands up to bury her fingers in his hair and started to knead.

Remy’s hand on his back made him take a step forward, and he was suddenly glad that Phyllis was out here helping as he realised climbing and mounting his horse would be impossible without help. 

He carefully climbed the makeshift stairs, Hannah bumping against him in a distracting way with each step, and waited until Remy and Phyllis gave the go ahead before carefully swinging his leg over and arranging Hannah in front of him. She was still clinging to him like a piggyback frog, and it felt like she’d hooked her ankles together behind his back, from the way her legs rested against the tops of his own.

He ignored her squirming as she tried to get comfortable and he looked down at Phyllis, nodding tightly before he kicked Spacer into motion, hearing Remy thank the nurse and mount Arrow behind him. It was after seven, so most people would be either at home or at the Round Table eating their evening meal, so less people around to run into and see him, see _ Hannah _looking so compromised. Which meant, as a matter of courtesy, he should probably take her home via Central Plaza, and around the outside walls. Just so they didn’t risk people seeing her from their windows, or running into everyone in Peach Plaza and having them swamp her and try to ask questions. It would be kinder to her. No other reason.

Reassured his explanation for not taking the quicker route to her home stood up to inspection, he started guiding them down the stairs, listening to Remy trot calmly behind him. They went down the steps in silence, except for the occasional random murmurs from Hannah against his neck. Things like “Warm”, “Mine”, and “Smell so good”. But when they reached flat ground, Remy moved Arrow beside him, and Arlo looked over at him, bracing himself.

“Sam and I talked to the Mayor when we got back. He’s banned her from working until Dr Xu gives her the all clear, you can be the one who tells her that. We need to go check out the desert ruins and see when, or even if, it’ll be safe for folks to go into again. He also wanted us to check out the ruins here in town, in case the tremors from the cave in reached this far and affected anything. I already went over to the Amber Island cave when Sam and I got back to town, so that’s ready to be opened again as soon as you sign it off.”

Arlo blinked at him, then smiled gratefully. He really should have known better than to expect teasing right now from Remy. It was sure to happen, but not while he was still so worked up.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. What else did you and Sam do this afternoon?” he asked, shifting his arm around Hannah’s waist as she started to list to the side slightly, pulling her closer to him as they passed through the gate and taking a moment to shift her t-shirt back up her shoulder from where it had started to fall down. Nora had found the biggest, baggiest, most stretched out top Hannah owned apparently, that kept showing off the fact she wasn't wearing a bra right now. 

“Not much,” Remy said with a shrug, scanning the fields as the trotted through them. “Folks wanted to know what happened, so I spent some time going round talking to people. Sam went and told Nora and got her to run a few errands, I think? She also did a quick patrol of the wasteland but Gale asked us to check one of the ruins tonight so it can be open again for the tourists tomorrow, so Sam had to go start that not long ago. I’ll go help her after I see you back to Hannah’s.”

Arlo nodded his thanks, looking out over the fields as they trotted peacefully along. The warm spring breeze swirled around them, and Arlo almost let himself pretend that Hannah sitting in front of him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders with her face buried in his neck humming off key was by choice, instead because of the fact she’d nearly died today. He turned his head slightly to rest his face against her hair, but startled back when Remy broke the silence again.

“You did good today, Captain. You found her, and got her out alive. You saved her and kept her safe. She’ll wake up tomorrow and be right back to causing all sorts of trouble for you, don’t you worry.”

He looked quickly at his friend, who was looking forward with a slight smile. And while Arlo wanted to answer, wanted to tell Remy that of course she’d be fine, he knew that wasn’t what Remy meant. Remy meant causing a different kind of trouble. The kind he was desperately trying not to think about when he had her right here in his arms where he’d wanted her for so damn long. 

He nodded again, and dropped his head down to rest his lips on her head. Not kissing her, because that wasn’t appropriate right now, but just, just resting his lips there. She shifted again and muttered something he didn’t quite catch, but didn’t pull away. 

He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to memorise how all this felt. Ignoring the why’s, and focusing on the now. But then they reached her fence, brand new and clean since she’d just bought another stretch of land to expand into, and he had to concentrate as they rode around to the gate.

Soft whickers greeted him as he kicked the gate open, and he was surprised to find both her horses leaning over the bar of the stable and stretching their neck towards her. Someone had brought Adrien home then. Which was good. Because he’d completely forgotten about him in his panicked exit from the ruins.

Hannah shifted against him, lifting her face from his chest for the first time since they’d left the clinic, and she unhooked one of her hands to reach out towards her horses, calling out their names as she leant dangerously sideways.

“Remy,” Arlo started nervously, but his teammate had already dismounted and was underneath her, arms up and ready to catch her and Arlo allowed her to carefully slip out of his grip.

She landed in Remy’s arms with a soft oof, then stopped stretching for her horses to turn back to Arlo, looking up at him with a lost expression and making a grabby hand at him instead. Arlo couldn’t stop the bark of laughter, then another as she pouted at him, whining as she leant back towards his legs even as Remy tried to hold her up.

“If you could get down and take her, Arlo?”

“Yes yes, sorry,” he chuckled, quickly jumping down and stepping towards her. He leant down quickly and swept an arm under her legs, biting down the hiss as her legs knocked against one of the larger cuts, grabbing her back and curling her up against his chest as she squeaked and flailed. He tipped his head back to avoid her hand, then forward slightly as she righted herself and looped the arm around his neck.

He hated to admit just how right it felt to hold her against him like this. Her arm snaked around his back and gripping his shoulder, her head resting against it and the side of his face, her breath brushing against his chin as she sighed happily. But then he had to laugh again as she pulled away, reaching back towards the stable.

He shook his head as he walked them over, Remy at his side.

“So which of you brought him back for her?”

“Neither of us, really. Sam and I were watching you race across the desert and the next thing we knew Adrien had shoved us out the way and was racing after you. We found him outside the clinic trying to get through the doors. Spacer had taken himself back to the stable and was eating Teddy’s apples, you owe Sam five or six by the way. I did bring him down here and then fed them both earlier, and when Emily came past I asked for her help with the monsters.” Arlo tried not to laugh as Remy shuddered. While the ducks were well behaved, Hannah really needed to train the chickens to stop attacking everyone but him, her, and Emily, he thought. And Oaks, he added on grudgingly.

Although, he thought smugly to himself. Hannah hadn’t called for the other man even once since she’d woken up. Only him. But then he mentally kicked himself. Because Oaks was clearly her friend, even without everything else going on. And he was probably equally worried about Hannah right now, and he wasn’t sure if he’d been told anything by anyone.

He should really fix that. He’d want to know, in his shoes.

He’d send Remy to talk to him later.

He stopped when they were within reach of her horses, as they’d both moved closer and stretched out their necks to snuffle at her. She patted both Adrien and Marinette’s noses, slurring praise and compliments and other odd things that didn’t quite make sense, until she cut herself off with a yawn, hand pulling back and grabbing at his top as she twisted round. 

“Ok. That’s enough now,” he said, jumping her up to resettle his grip despite the sparks of pain through both his hands, and turned towards her house. He strode across the yard and stood by the door for Remy to open it, allowing the other man to go in first. 

He waited while Remy searched for the light switch, then blinked as he looked around. She’d rearranged yet again apparently. He smiled as he walked carefully across her main room, then paused in the doorway to her bedroom to kick his shoes off, remembering her dislike of people who wore shoes in bedrooms and reminding Remy of it. Only he wasn’t wearing them. He looked back towards the front door, and his shoes laying haphazardly next to her neatly lined up ones. Oh. He must have kicked them off when Remy found the light switch. Habit was an incredible thing, he thought as he heard Remy chuckle.

Remy walked in behind him as he headed to her bed, and then there was a thwap that sounded like a pile of papers being set down on a wooden surface. 

He gently lowered Hannah onto her bed, tugging at her hands when she didn’t want to let go and managing to free himself, to look over at Remy and find he’d been right about the noise. His friend was rummaging through his bag, taking things out to rearrange others inside before throwing the bag with her clothes on to her couch.

“Some paperwork, just for if you have time. It’s nothing that can’t wait if you don’t.”

“Thank you, Remy.” He froze as he realised what the other man had alluded to. “I mean, well…”

Remy smiled softly. “I know, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll just make sure Spacer is fed before I leave.”

He nodded, already turning back to Hannah, before remembering Oaks again. He sighed, and looked at his friend, who was paused in the doorway, eyebrows lifted. 

“Could you find Oaks on your way to the ruins? Make sure he knows she’s ok?”

Remy looked at him oddly for a moment before smiling knowingly, nodding once before walking out of the room and shutting the door with a click behind him. And Arlo was left sitting on the edge of Hannah’s bed, looking down at her as she smiled up at him like he was the most important thing in her world.

“Stay with me?”

He blinked down at her, not sure he’d heard her right, but she was reaching up for him again with that same smile and wiggling her fingers and damn if he didn’t want to climb in the bed next to her and wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe from everything ever. But he stopped himself, because she wasn’t in complete control right now.

“I’m staying right here, don’t worry,” he soothed, bypassing her hands to lay one of his own carefully on her cheek, stroking small circles there with his thumb.

“Good. That’s good that you’re staying. You have to stay here, ok?”

His heart fluttered as he met her wide hazel gaze. She was looking up at him with such openness and trust and adoration, and he couldn’t find the words to say anything back.

“You have to stay Arlo,” she whined, turning her face towards his hand and rubbing against it, and he was glad she wasn’t looking at him so she missed his wince when she rubbed a sore spot on his palm under the bandages. “You have to stay here with me. Always. You can’t leave me alone anymore. I need you.”

His breath caught in his throat, and he shifted round on the edge of the bed to face her, grabbing one of her still waving hands in his free one and bringing it to his lips to kiss the backs of her fingers softly.

“I promise I’m not going anywhere for now Hannah, you need to relax.”

“But I need you Arlo. You can’t go away again, and not talk to me. It hurts when you don’t talk to me, it makes me sad. I miss being your Hot Stuff, and being your friend. I miss you coming round to look after me each month...”

She trailed off, eyes closing and head pressing heavily into his hand on her cheek, and he bit his lip to try and stop the tears. _ Hot Stuff. _Something he hadn’t said in months, and hadn’t even realised he’d missed saying until now. And she was right, he hadn’t been looking out for her, not the way he used to once. He hadn’t brought her ice cream or sweets, or read to her when she felt bad. He hadn’t even noticed her feeling bad the last few months, with how much he’d avoided her, as Sam had already pointed out to him two weeks ago. 

He sat next to her as she drifted off, watching her sleep and thinking of all the time he’d wasted holding her at arms length. Surely just asking her outright if she’d meant the flirting wouldn’t have hurt as bad as this almost had. He’d ask her when she woke up. No, he’d ask her tomorrow, when she was feeling better. Xu said her head would be probably be aching for several days, and not to overload her with things, so he didn’t want to cause her any extra pain by making her think too hard about anything.

He’d just be here. He’d apologise and just be here for her. He’d be here by her side, exactly where she asked him to be, doing anything and everything she asked of him because he needed her in his life, even more than she seemed to want him in hers.

He wouldn’t, he _ couldn’t _lose her again.

He lost track of time as he watched her sleep, her face blurry through the tears he had given in to and was allowing himself to finally shed. All the pent up emotions he’d shoved down behind his professional, Captain of the Civil Corp mask were being let out. Because it really had been one shit show of a day.


	29. Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah has important things to do. And when she won’t listen to reason, Arlo is forced to improvise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Minor injuries / Head injuries / Concussion / Memory loss / Mental breakdown / Restraints
> 
> Continues from last chapter

Hannah stirred slightly, and Arlo quickly pulled his hand back from her cheek to scrub at his eyes, and looked up again to find her staring at him in a confused way.

“Arlo? What...?”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” he asked, stroking the backs of her fingers still in his grip and hoping his voice sounded normal enough.

She kept staring at him for a long moment, and he smiled softly, waiting patiently as her eyes darted over his face before meeting his gaze again, a small frown forming between her brows.

“What are you doing here?”

Something stirred in the back of his mind, a warning bell going off, but he tried to ignore it and focus on the woman in front of him, letting go of her hand when she tugged it away. She rubbed at her eyes, and he saw the twitch of pain when her fingers brushed against her forehead.

“I’m here to look after you. You were in the desert ruins when an explosion went off, and you got hurt. You’ve got a concussion.”

“I, I what?”

He took a second to search her face, open and confused and the most focused he’d seen it since she said goodbye that morning, but still not entirely right.

“You hit your head, and I’m here to look after you.”

“I, ok. But why?”

The warning bell started to ring a little louder. He knew people with head injuries could have memory issues.The last time Sam had got hurt she’d lost not only the day it had happened, but half of the day before too, and had then been fuzzy on things for days immediately afterwards. But she hadn’t had short term problems like this he didn’t think. So he didn’t know if that’s what was happening here, or if this was something more sinister he needed to take her back to the clinic to check out?

“I just said,” he started softly, reaching forward to touch her cheek again. “You got hurt, and--”

“No. I got that bit. I meant why _ you_?”

He froze, hand hanging in midair halfway to her face, and he saw her eyes dart to it before back to meet his again.

“I, what?” he whispered, not quite sure what she was asking.

“Why are you the one looking after me?”

Oh. His mouth moved, but he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. 

Because he still cared about her, even if he hadn’t shown it recently? Even if he’d actively pushed her away and not giving her any real reason to think he did for months, and then on made the vaguest, lamest attempts to try and talk to her these last few weeks?

Because she obviously still cared about him, from the way she had grabbed hold of him and refused to let go, and from the things she’d just been saying to him? 

Because he was the Captain of the Civil Corps, and this was part of his job? 

Because he loved her?

She frowned at him, eyes narrowing slightly, before sighing, and starting to shift her legs. They knocked into his side and he startled, looking down at them in confusion.

“Can you move please? I need the bathroom.”

“Oh, yes of course.” He jumped to his feet and turned, holding out his hands towards her to help, and she stared at them blankly, then sighed and grabbed hold of one, pulling herself into a sitting position and then gripping his hand tighter as she swayed.

“Hey, easy now, take your time. Do you want me to carry you, or--”

“No, I think I, I…” She cut across him then trailed off, hand at her forehead again and eyes scrunched up in pain. “Actually, yes please. Thank you,” she whispered, sounding small and broken and unsure.

He nodded, sliding his arms under her legs and around her back, carefully pulling her against his chest once more and stamping down the spark of happiness that fluttered inside him when her head immediately rested on his shoulder like it belonged there, and the general feel of her held in his arms. He carried her to the bathroom and gently set her back on her feet, holding her steady as she staggered on the spot before leaning against him again.

“Do you, er, I mean…” he tried, not sure how to offer, but she snorted and gave him the faintest of smirks.

“I think I’m good. But, um,” she blushed, looking away from him to focus on the painting hanging above the cistern. “If you could wait outside? Just in case?”

“Of course,” he said, stepping backwards from the room and closing the door softly behind him.

He leant on the wall by the door, stretching his hands out to bleed off some of the pain in them and both trying not to listen to the sounds from inside, and listening intently for anything that sounded like she needed help. He winced a little when he saw the clock on the wall, because damn, he really had lost time watching her sleep.

He heard the flush of water, then the trickle of the tap running, and pushed from the wall, expecting the door to swing open at any second so he could pick her up and feel that rightness again and, maybe this time if she asked, he _ would _ get in bed with her? Just to sit next to her and stroke her hair, so he could be comfortable while he looked after her through the night. Start showing her he was ready to make a real effort with her again. 

The door opened slowly, and revealed her leaning heavily on the wall next to it, rubbing at her damp forehead with one hand as she slowly looked up at him, bits of hair around her face dripping. 

“Captain? What’re you, what’re you doing in my house?”

The warning bells, which had started to die down a little as he waited, flared back to life full force. He stared at her face, trying to pick out anything that would help him work out what was going on, but just found her looking at him in open confusion. 

“You got hurt this morning, you have a concussion? I’m here looking after you for a while?” he offered, watching her reactions closely.

“Oh,” she said simply, blinking at him. He waited, unsure what to do next. Was that an _ “oh, I remember now” _ oh? An _ “oh, right, ok then, go ahead and take me back to bed” _ oh? An _ “oh, I have no idea what you’re talking about or what to say either” _ oh? He had no idea what he was meant to do.

“Hannah…?” he asked softly, reaching a hand out towards her.

“Hmm?” she responded, sounding slightly dazed. She looked at his hand, then her eyes travelled up his arm up to his face, and she blinked at him sleepily. “I feel like shit, Captain.”

Something inside him coiled, and he tried his best to ignore it. He focused on his training, he couldn’t let his emotions out at a time like this. He had to look after her.

“I imagine you do. C’mon, let’s get you back to bed now, ok?”

“Ok,” she said, nodding and immediately looking like she regretted the motion as her eyes closed and she swayed. He reached out and took her hands, intending to put them around his shoulders so he could pick her up again, but she seemed to think he wanted her to walk and stepped forward. Only she was as unsteady as she looked, and her legs gave out and she stumbled, crashing into his front as her head bounced off his collar bone.

“Shit! Are you ok? Does anything hurt?” he yelped, throwing his arms around her waist and holding her still as she whined.

“My head is killing me, Captain… I’m, I’m not feeling so great.”

The coil wound tighter and he willed himself to ignore it. Not now. He couldn’t let himself look too closely at why her going back to calling him Captain after everything that had happened today hurt so much _ right now _. Later! Much later when he was back in his room with a large bottle of something and he had time to fall apart.

“Ok. Ok. Let’s get you back to bed then, yeah? C’mon Hannah, I need you to hold on while I help you back.”

She groaned, but lifted her arms up to slide around his neck without complaint, and he carefully picked her up again. She was silent as he carried her quickly back to her room and set her down in her bed, gently laying her back against her pillows. Her arms slid from him as he started to pull away, flopping onto the bed next to her as her head rolled sideways into the pillow.

He stayed leaning over her, watching her carefully. Her eyes were shut with little creases of pain around the edges. He couldn’t tell if her forehead was damp from sweat or where she’d just washed it, and the ridges of her cheeks were suspiciously pink against the rest of her washed out skin. But her breathing seemed to be evening out, slowing down as the little signs of hurt faded from her face. 

He pulled back, sitting on the edge of the bed again as he waited, wondering if she really had fallen back asleep. Wondering if he should see if anyone was outside, for him to send to Dr Xu. Get him to come check if her memory coming back like this, in fits and starts, was normal. Or, wait. Hadn’t Xu mentioned something like this already? Maybe it’d be in the papers he’d given him.

He’d check in a minute. Right after he’d washed his face. Maybe got a drink of water. Cleared away some of the fatigue he felt, and the signs he’d been crying, before she woke up again even more alert and possibly asked questions he didn’t want to answer tonight.

He stood up, stilling a moment as she groaned and rolled her head the other way on the pillow, facing away from him now, but not making any other signs of waking. So he stepped back, and made his way across her room quietly. He scrubbed at his face and internally grumbled at the feel of the bandages scratching his skin as he walked through her house, going to the kitchen first and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. They were still in the same place at least, he thought to himself as he filled it from the tap. He wandered to the fridge while he sipped at it, looking at the photos she had stuck to it covering the entire top half. 

Her and Nora in their bathing suits, from summer it looked like. Her and Ginger leaning over something in Ginger’s lap, shadowed by the tree Gust was leaning on behind them, glaring at whoever was taking the photo. Her and Remy with Arrow, the horse nearly pushing her over as he sniffed her pockets. Sam hugging her from behind in front of the dart board in the games room, holding up a bubble wand as they laughed. Mei half way up a ladder, reaching dangerously to the side for something out of shot while Hannah held the ladder steady mid yell. Standing next to Petra in the Research Centre by the relic machine, looking fascinated as she peered inside it. Emily and Oaks sitting in front of the coop, being climbed on by chickens and ducks. Several of her various friends from Barnarock, both old and new, one being of Zack with his arm wrapped around a girl with short spiky hair and a nose ring, who he thought looked oddly familiar for some reason.

He smiled as he looked at them, his fingers tracing her smile in them. It was nice to see her so happy. It had been so long since he’d last seen her smile, heard her laugh. He flicked across them, and his smile started to fade. There weren’t any photos of him. He lowered his glass to the counter next to the fridge, going over them all again and using both hands to keep track of photos, and stopped over the newest one, still glossy from being printed, next to the handle. It was of Oaks sitting on her couch working on some of the little trinkets he made sometimes, and was stuck over another he could just see underneath it. His fingers had just brushed the edge when he heard a shout from the bedroom, and he turned on his heel to dash across the house, grabbing onto the bedroom door frame when he reached it and spinning himself to a stop with a flare of pain in his hand.

Hannah was sitting up in bed, hands in her hair and looking around wildly. Her eyes snapped up to him and he had a brief glimpse of panic, fear, confusion, before she looked away from him and started climbing out of bed.

“Hannah! What are you doing?”

“I have to get to work, I’ve got commissions waiting for me. I have to go make them or I’ll be late. I’ve never been late with my work, and I don’t want to start now,” she babbled, sounding breathless and panicked, and completely unlike her normal self.

He jumped forward when she stumbled to her feet, catching her as she tipped forward with a squeak. She gripped his arms, but tried to push him back out of the way instead of trying to steady herself. She looked up at him, and now he was closer he could see her eyes were slightly unfocused, hazy, and a hint of anger forming behind the confusion.

“Out of the way, I’ve got to get to work. I can’t be late and let people down, they’re all counting on me.”

She dropped her hands from him, and tried to step sideways, as if to go around him, but he just tensed his arm and kept her in place.

“Hannah, you’re injured, and you need to get back in bed. You don’t have anything to work on right now,” he started to say, hoping to soothe her, but it didn’t work.

“The heck do you know? I’ve got plenty of things I need to work on, and none of them can wait. I’ve got people relying on me, and my workshop’s reputation on the line here. Surely you understand all about _ reputation_, don’t you Mr _ Captain _ _of the_ _ Civil Corps_,” she snapped at him, and he flinched at both her jab and the bite of her voice, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Mr have to keep a straight face so no one knows I’m human. Mr can’t be friends with anyone or let people get close to me for whatever reason I cook up this week. Mr drops people without telling them why so he can keep up appearances with everyone else. Yes, you know all about _ reputations_. So get out of my way and let me go and work on keeping mine _ good_.”

She shoved at him again, and he let go of her waist as he took a step back to steady himself, and she seemed to think that meant she’d won, because she sneered at him before going to walk forward.

He stared at her, speechless for a moment, before straightening. Ok, fine. He could understand why she would think those things, and she wasn’t entirely wrong with some of it, but if he said she was injured then that should be that. She’d always trusted him before, and even though some part of him acknowledged that this, this wasn’t really Hannah right now, because Hannah had never talked or acted like this in the year he’d known her, this was probably the concussion, he still felt like she should take him at his word and listen to him without arguing. 

“Hannah, you need to stop fighting me and get back in bed. Now!”

“No I don’t! What are you even doing in my house? Get out! You haven’t been here in months and you think you can just walk in and start bossing me around? No! Get out of here _ Captain_, you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

He wrapped his arm back around her as her knees started to give way despite her angry words, and he decided, screw it. He stepped forward and used the momentum to half lift, half throw her back onto her bed, ignoring her yelp as he slid his hand behind her head to cushion it from hitting the pillow full force when she fell and bounced on her mattress at an angle, one leg hanging off the edge. 

“What are you ** _doing_**?” she yelled, trying to push herself up as her other hand flew to grip her head at the front. “I said I have work to do. You know, that thing that earns money, so I can keep living here? Or are you that desperate to get me out of your life and get rid of me that you want me to run out of money so I can’t buy anything and have to move back to Kendra in Barnarock?”

He ignored her as he tried to push her back down to the bed by her shoulders, hoping she’d take the hint. But she didn’t. She let herself fall back, but then swung at him instead, catching him on his upper arm. Her other hand left her forehead and darted in, catching him in the ribs, and he choked on a gasp as her fingers then went back in for another two shots at the soft bits in his sides.

_ Is this normal_? he asked himself yet again as he wrestled with her on her bed, trying to keep her from hitting him or hurting herself as she waved her arms around and yelled. He couldn’t remember if Sam had gotten fighty when she got hurt, but then she’d stayed at the clinic with Phyllis, since they were friends and he’d had to go back to clearing out the ruins she’d got injured in.

He grunted as her knee came up and hit him in the hip and then her toes found his shin, and enough was enough. He grabbed both of her wrists and slammed them onto the mattress next to her head, wrapping his fingers around the backs with his thumbs over the pulse points so when he leant forward, his weight rested on his knuckles instead of her while keeping her still. He climbed up onto the bed, straddling her legs and shifting his own so she couldn’t kick or knee him again.

He held her down as she tried to thrash and buck him off. She snarled and yelled at him but he grit his teeth and ignored her. She didn’t mean it. She wasn’t herself right now, and was just trying to hurt him. She didn’t need to know it was working, because she wasn’t herself and was just venting. She didn’t really believe he wanted her gone. She couldn’t think that, not really.

She ran out of steam quickly, flopping back onto the bed bonelessly, panting hard and sweating with her eyes screwed shut again, her hair sticking to her face. He wanted nothing more than to gently brush it to the side… but he couldn’t. Not now.

He climbed off her when he was sure she was done fighting and she groaned, lifting one arm to lay across her eyes while she rotated the other wrist. He stood next to the bed, staring blindly as he thought. He wasn’t sure what he should be doing right now. Because it was clear she wasn’t going to listen to him, or believe him when he said she was injured. She was determined to get up and get to work, so what could he…

Her headboard. The metal bars of her headboard which she’d said herself were sturdy. That they’d already talked about tying people to at one point. That already had various things hanging off it that he could use… but no. The hemp rope wasn’t there for some reason, only the short silky ribbons. What else could he... yes. He looked back to the table, seeing Remy had left a few things behind when he’d gone through his bag, including one of the ropes from the cave. Tying her up wasn’t the best plan ever, but given the circumstances, it was reasonable surely? If only to stop her from hurting herself? He couldn’t exactly stay in her bed and keep holding her down every time she tried to get up. He wasn’t at full health himself, and she wasn’t pulling her punches right now, he thought with a wince as his side twinged.

He strode to the table, grabbed the rope and came back to the bed, leaning over her to feed the rope behind two of the three central pillars, and looped it round before pulling it through to drape over the bed. She didn’t move while he rearranged the pillows to between the bars, but did moan in protest when he started to shift her around to lay on them, and brought her legs up onto the bed properly. 

“This is for your own good,” he said evenly as he grabbed her free hand and quickly looped the rope around it, tying a quick Burlington bowline knot before dropping her hand to the pillow near the bar. He then lifted her other arm from her face, ignoring the pained grimace and glare she gave him as he repeated the process. He pushed everything he felt down, back behind the mask. He was simply the Captain, making sure a citizen didn’t end up hurting herself or others. Nothing more.

“You’re not thinking straight right now. If you go out to your workshop, you’ll just end up getting hurt again. Probably even worse this time, given what you’ve got out there. So I need you to stop fighting me on this, and just trust me,” he said, laying that hand above her head by the other bar, slipping a finger under the rope of each wrist to check he hadn’t made them too tight.

She huffed, and he glanced down at her, and found her staring up at him. Her eyes were cloudy again, not quite focused, and yet somehow clearer than they’d been all day. Her face was completely open, no masks or pretenses anywhere. He could clearly see how scared, confused, tired, upset, and frustrated she was. And yet there was also a spark of something happy, hopeful, relaxed, that he wanted to see more of, work out exactly what it was, that vanished as her eyes slid shut.

“I trust you, Captain. You know I’d trust you with anything. I’ve always trusted you,” she said lowly, biting her lip when she’d finished and turning her head away from him on the pillow. 

He lifted his hands from her and stepped back, knocking into her bedside table and causing something on it to shift and clatter. Because damn. That was--? She said--? What?

He stood next to the bed, hands hanging limply by his sides as she drifted off again and her breathing slowed, even as his own sped up. Why would she say that? Did she mean it? After everything else she’d just been shouting at him, was that possibly the real Hannah? Or was it more nonsense, saying anything that crossed her mind? But then, surely that meant she did mean it and…

He took another step back, away from her. This was going to be a lot harder than he’d imagined. He obviously didn’t know as much about concussions as he’d thought, or had forgotten what he did know, and should read the notes Xu had given him after all. He turned to head to the couch again, and noticed two photo frames on the little bedside table, both laying flat. They must have fallen over, maybe? It hadn’t sounded like things fell, only moved a bit. He reached out and lifted the one closest to the edge, and stilled.

A photo of the two of them. Hannah leaning back against him, her face turned and pressing her nose into his cheek, looking at the camera from the corner of her eye as she smiled and radiated that joy and laughter and life she had. Her hands were holding on to his where they were folded over her stomach, holding her against him as he laughed, eyes closed, and he could just see the start of happy tears forming at the corners. This was from summer, when Mei had first got the camera and Sam had borrowed it to try it out. One of the first photos taken, that Hannah had claimed. Said it wouldn’t do to let the people of Portia see him all relaxed and undignified.

He stood it back up, trying to keep his breathing even and not disturb her. Because she had it here, next to her bed. From the angle it’d been, when stood up it’d probably be one of the first things she saw when she opened her eyes and that meant...

He grabbed the other one and stood it up next to the first, and bit his lip to stop the groan.

Him again. From the looks of it, after he’d gotten back from one of the morning runs, with Sam and Remy in the background. Drinking a bottle of something, one of his hands slicking through his hair and his jacket hanging open and wow, Mei had worked on the photo quality it seemed. When had she…

Start of last month. He remembered now. He’d caught her taking this, and asked her what it was for. Mei had said, had said she wanted candid shots for something she was putting together. But then why did Hannah have it next to her bed?

And why had it been tipped over. Because he knew, he _ knew _it hadn’t fallen when he’d knocked the table. What did that mean, that she had photos of him next to her bed, but they’d been face down? Why weren’t they on the fridge like all the others?

He staggered to the couch, and sat down heavily on it, pulling the bag from Phyllis over and pulling out the notes, grabbing her clothes and throwing them in the direction of her laundry basket. She’d want to wash them herself before anything, even if Phyllis had done it already. He unfolded the notes and tried to scan the first few lines, but groaned softly, letting them drop to the cushion next to him and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and hands covering his face.

He dragged them down, settling them over his mouth as he stared at her, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room. He’d untie her later, if she was more with it next time she woke, and less likely to hit him. But for now, for now she could stay there.

He sat for a moment, trying to collect himself, before sighing, and pushing himself back to his feet. Drink. He needed a drink. And he should probably bring one back for her, maybe an herbal mix if she had any in her fridge. He knew she was allowed that at least, and she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink today since before, before…

He walked through to the kitchen and grabbed his glass from where he’d left it, refilling it and gulping the cold water down. He set it down and went to cup his hands under the tap, only to lean his arms on the edge and drop his head down when he saw the bandages, again. He kept forgetting the damn bandages. And what did that even say about him, that he kept forgetting the pain from the cuts and scrapes all over his fingers and hands because he was so focused on her?

He turned the water off then stood there, leaning over just like he had so many months ago, staring at the plug hanging round the tap. Thinking. 

She’d been aloof this morning, same as she had been recently. And then she’d been in the ruins and almost… no. Not thinking about that. Not that. Not now. And then she’d woken up wanting him, calling for him before she’d been properly awake even. And she’d smiled at him, and not let go. She hadn’t let him out of her sight or grip at all. She’d looked so happy to have him with her. And then when he’d got her back here she’d begged him to stay. She’d actually _ told _him she wanted him to stay.

But then all the things she’d just said, just shouted at him. They sounded so raw, so real. She must have meant everything she said after all, which hurt. By Peach, did that hurt, that some part of her thought he wanted her gone, wanted her to leave Portia. But it must have been hurting her worse, for her to scream it all at him now. It must have all been building up for a while, and she was only letting it out because she wasn’t herself right now, all her defenses were down.

But even with all that hate and anger she had towards him, she had the photos of him right next to her bed. Where she could see them. And that had to mean something, even if they were laying down. Because if she didn’t want them there she’d have got rid of them, moved them somewhere else, like she had with the fridge...

Right. The fridge. He’d wanted to know what the photo next to the handle was, the one she’d have looked at every time she opened it, before she covered it with one of Oaks.

He pushed up and turned, crossing the kitchen and standing in front of the unit, fingers tugging the photo free and revealing...

Him. Him riding Spacer in Central Plaza, taken from the steps to Portia Times. Grinning while he rolled his eyes and shook his head. Hannah had taken this one. She’d joked with him, asking him to relax a little, smile for her, just this once. And he’d given in, as much as he could while being out in public. 

It was another of the very first photos taken, and she’d had it up on her wall for ages. But now it was on her fridge, next to the handle so she'd see it every time she opened it. Except she'd covered it with one of Oaks…

Oaks, whom she was close to. Whom she'd always been close to, he allowed himself to acknowledge. 

Oaks who had helped teach her how to look after her monsters. Who had sat with her as she fished, and walked with her when she went gathering. Who he’d seen take her back to his, and laugh with her and Abu in the fields. Who sometimes helped her with commissions when he had time. And who’d always left quickly when he'd shown up, with a shy smile and a nod. 

Except he'd stopped doing that recently. Oaks hadn't been leaving when he'd noticed Arlo watching. He'd been stepping closer to Hannah, throwing his arm around her in hugs, pulling her close. He'd taken her to dinner the other week, and not backed down even slightly at the look Arlo had sent him. And then he’d seen him here at her house last week, with a bouquet of flowers and his bear skin freshly washed and fluffy… and Oaks had met his eyes as he rode past, and nodded at him.

Hannah liked redheads and uniforms. That's what she'd said, way back in Summer. He'd wondered back then if she’d meant him or Oaks, but everything since then had seemed to lean towards her meaning him. But then the dreams, nightmares really, he’d been having recently sparked in his head, before he shoved them away. Because with whatever he’d seen to cause those, and then all of this...

He growled as he slapped the photo back onto the fridge with more force than necessary, and stomped out of the kitchen to the bathroom, swinging the door violently but catching it at the last second so it didn't slam, just quietly clicked shut. He grabbed one of the fresh towels folded on the shelf and brought it to his face, trying not to breathe too deeply but unable to stop himself because it was her. It smelled like her, which was stupid because of course it would.

He held it there as his breathing started to stutter. He wasn't crying again. He couldn't cry again. Not here, not now. He had to hold it together, just a little while longer.

He took a long, deep breath, then pushed the towel over his mouth as he screamed wordlessly, muffling the sound as he tried to bleed off some of the feelings bubbling up inside him. He leant back against the wall and slid down it, screaming again when he was huddled on the floor. And then did it again. And again.

He panted into it, pressing the towel back to his mysteriously damp eyes, given how he _ wasn't crying right now damnit_, and swallowed down the chuckle which wouldn't be good to let out right now either. He had to pull himself together. He had to pull himself together and go look after Hannah. Because she needed him. Needed him in case something happened tonight, at any rate.

He lowered the towel, tipping his head back and simply breathing for a moment, before dragging himself to his feet and grabbing a face cloth from her shelf, damping it down in her sink. He scrubbed at his face, and kept scrubbing till he looked pink all over and fresh, no hints of crying. He dried himself, then left the towel on the edge of her bath, the face cloth over the tap to drip since he couldn't wring it out, and walked back out the bathroom and to her bedroom, going to the side of her bed.

Sleeping peacefully, though one of her hands was dangling where it looked like she'd tried to pull it. He leant over carefully and shifted one of the spare pillows over to support her hand. She mumbled sleepily, whining his name and asking him to stay, but no, no she was still asleep. He stepped back quickly, and moved across the room, sitting on the couch and picking up Xu's notes again. He had to focus, read the notes. He had to know what to expect.

Because he was the Captain right now, looking after a citizen. He had to be professional. He had to be detached. Plenty of time later to fall apart, and go over all the little things he’d seen, heard, lived through today. Later, when he wasn’t here and she wasn’t relying on him to look after her.

He could be professional right now. Because he'd do whatever he had to, if it was for her. Even if she didn't like him, even if she hated him, even if it felt like his heart was being ripped in two.

He'd do anything for her. Anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So out of interest, is anyone still wanting to hurt Arlo for being a jerk a few chapters back? ^_~ A_d


	30. All That Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah has had enough of being kept in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Minor injuries / Head injuries / Concussion / Memory loss / Being Restrained

March 7th, Saturday  


Hannah sighed softly as she turned her head to lean her cheek against the cool, soft pillowcase. She stretched slowly beneath the covers, relishing the relief in her body as her muscles tensed and relaxed and the joints in her legs popped quietly, unable to recall the last time her bed had felt so comfortable. Wanting to feel the same delicious pop in her arms, she squirmed down on her bed and stretched her hands as far up as she could towards the bars of the bed, and--

She paused, frowning even as she kept her eyes closed. She recognised that tightness around her wrists… Carefully tugging her hands down towards her head, she felt the same tight strain that completely stopped her from pulling her arms down to her sides.

_ What the Fruit Puff? _ She opened her eyes and immediately froze, her heart skipping a beat as the first thing that came into view was _ Arlo_. He was sitting on her couch surrounded by leaves of paper, some of which he was currently rifling through in his lap. What… what was _ he _doing here?

And why, she thought in half panic as her brain finally allowed her to combine one and one into two, had he _ tied her up? _

Almost as if he’d been able to sense her eyes on him, he lifted his gaze and looked at her, and she could see a small quirk of his eyebrows before his face took on the frustratingly impassive look she hated to see on him. He smiled, but it was a bland, unemotional smile; one of his Captain smiles.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said matter-of-factly. “Have you slept well?”

Hannah scowled at him. What was this? Was it some kind of joke? A stupid prank? Were Sam and Nora going to jump out from the next room and yell ‘Gotcha!’? If they thought they were being funny, they were sorely off the mark this time.

When she didn’t answer, Arlo tilted his head to the side and blinked patiently at her. “Do you need anything? A drink, maybe?”

She almost snapped, _ ‘You could untie me,’ _but something stopped her. Her cheeks were starting to burn, which was stupid and unnecessary, because why—after all this time of getting the cold shoulder from him—would she be embarrassed about being tied up by Arlo?

He looked at her for a moment longer before his smile faded completely. “I’m sorry about the rope,” he said quietly before returning his attention to the papers in his lap. “It’s for your own good.”

_ For my own good. _ She froze as a lost memory came crashing into her. Arlo grabbing her wrists and slamming them onto the mattress next to her head. Arlo straddling her and keeping her down with his weight as she struggled beneath him and tried to buck him off. Arlo looping a rope around her wrists before securing them to the head bars.

He’d… He’d tied her up to keep her from working, she remembered, and as more images started taking form in her mind, she realised it was because she’d been hurt… She couldn’t remember how or why, but now that she remembered, she could actually sense a dull pain in the back of her head. But it was just dull, just like a passing headache, so certainly whatever had made him resort to using ropes to restrain her wasn’t on the table anymore?

“I feel fine,” she spelled out slowly, pushing down her anger for now. “I understand that you did this to stop me from hurting myself, but I feel much better now. You can untie me so I can work.”

“Your work can wait.”

She scowled. Was he seriously telling her that her work wasn’t important? “No, it _ can’t_,” she said, starting to get frustrated now. “I have commissions I need to finish!”

He looked up at her, and for a second, she thought she could see weariness on his face, but then he smoothed his features out and shook his head. “It’s Saturday evening, Hannah. Commissions never have deadlines on the weekend and even if they did, it’s too late.”

Hannah paused. It was… Saturday?

“Besides, you’re banned from working until Xu has given you the all clear.”

“But I feel _ fine_,” she repeated slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. “So you can go ahead and untie me now, _ Captain_.”

Even after using his title in the most seething tone of voice she could muster, Arlo just sighed and looked down at the papers again, turning a page in his lap. It was clear he wasn’t going to untie her just because she asked for it. She glared at him, trying in vain to yank her arms free as he kept reading, but she only managed to pull her other arm back with the same force by the rope connecting them. Trying to ignore how much it reminded her of some of the nights she’d spent with her ropes last Autumn, she let out an annoyed huff as she let herself fall back against the pillows, grimacing slightly when her brain jolted from the impact. This was stupid. Out of _ all _ the people who could have been watching her, it had to be _ him. _ How could Sam let this happen? Even Remy, who knew what Arlo had done to her? How could they let him barge into her own home and pretend like he was welcome here?

Why did he even come here, when he couldn’t care less what went on in her life?

_ Probably because he’s just being professional, _ she thought darkly. _ He cares about me as much as he cares about a runaway cow. _

“I’ll untie you.”

Hannah let her eyes focus on Arlo again to see him look straight at her, gaze still but guarded. He didn’t _ look _ like he was messing with her, but why would he suddenly have changed his mind?

“If you promise not to try to get up and work,” he added, and ah, there it was.

She flopped down on the bed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. “Fine,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze as she did, because for some reason it almost hurt to look into his eyes right now. She could see him move out of the corner of her eye as he got up from the couch and walked over to her, and then what she assumed was his knee weighed down the side of the mattress. But after that he paused, forcing her to eventually turn her head and look at him to see what was going on. He was scanning her face closely, eyebrows pulled together to create a wrinkle just above his nose, but when their eyes met, that wrinkle smoothed out again and the mask was put back on.

He leant forward, putting even more of his weight on the side of the bed as his hands moved up above her head towards her wrists. She strained her muscles to avoid sliding towards the dip in the mattress and consequently his leg, stubbornly staring past his face and into the ceiling while his fingers fluttered against her skin around the rope. Thankfully it didn’t take long before she was free and he pulled the rope away. As he laid it on the bedside table, Hannah struggled to sit up, then pulled her legs up against her chest and tucked her hands into the space between her thighs and her body, watching him cautiously to see what he would do next. She didn’t know where she had him right now. Was he going to go back to ignoring her when this was over? Was this really just something he did because it was his job, like that time in January when she’d been jumped by a Bandirat and he leant down to check on her? 

He met her gaze for a moment, and she almost thought she could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes before he turned away and started to stand up.

“Wait,” she called out without even thinking, her voice sounding strangely small and sad. 

He stopped, turned back and gave her a hesitant look as he waited for her to continue. She felt herself shrink under his gaze. She… she wasn’t sure why her brain had made her stop him, but she couldn’t back down now, and she did have one question that had been nagging at her ever since she woke up and saw him sitting there.

“Why… Why are you the one looking after me?”

His mask fell away immediately, his arms dropping to hang limply at his sides as he stared at her in shock. She watched him open and close his mouth, then shake his head and take a deep breath.

“Hannah, I...” He trailed off and licked his lips, eyes seemingly almost pleading with her, though she didn’t know what for. 

She wasn’t sure why this was such a difficult question for him to answer, but the longer he delayed it, the worse she felt. He was trying to make up an answer for her. Something that wasn’t true. Because the truth was that he was only here to do his job; nothing more, nothing less.

“I… wanted to make sure you’d be ok, because… I care about you,” he squeezed out at last, looking almost nauseous at his own words, and something inside Hannah snapped. She sat up straight.

“You,” she said slowly, quietly, while holding his gaze. “You _ care _ about me.”

He blinked, no doubt surprised by the change in her tone of voice. “Hannah--”

“You _ care _ about me,” she repeated even as she felt tears start to burn behind her eyes. “You… you…!”

Arlo reached out towards her, maybe in an attempt to calm her, but she flinched away from his hands. He pulled back immediately, face contorted in a pained grimace.

“I know I’ve been distant--”

“You’ve been _ distant _ , huh?” she half-shrieked, causing him to jump. “You’ve been completely and totally _ absent, _Arlo!”

He stared at her, fear and panic and worry etching lines into his face, and she just wanted him to leave. She didn’t want to see his stupid face again. But she knew he wasn’t going to just leave because she asked him, so if she wanted to get him out of her sight, she’d had to be the one to go.

She straightened her legs out in front of her and turned to sit on the side of the bed, muttering curses under her breath as she started to stand up, then immediately wobbled when her legs tried and failed to keep her upright. Arlo’s hands shot out to grab her just as she lost the fight with her balance and her legs gave in beneath her. She stumbled into his arms, feeling his hands move down to steady her by the waist, but as soon as she’d recovered, she shoved him back on impulse. He stumbled back, eyes wide in shock, and she took the opportunity to dart towards the door. But her legs were still unsteady, and she had to throw out her arms in an attempt to right herself as a sharp pain stabbed through her head and she almost tipped over. 

“Hannah,” Arlo called a second before his arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her a second time, but this time when she tried to break free, his grip tightened and he pulled her back against him as she struggled with all the force she could muster. His free arm locked her hands in place against her chest, causing her to yell out in frustration and start kicking with her legs instead as he lifted her up and hoisted her back towards the bed. “Hannah, stop fighting me, you’ll hurt yourself--”

“What do you care?” she yelled. “What the fuck do you care if I hurt myself?! You haven’t cared about me in months!”

With a grunt of exertion, he got her back into bed, then got in next to her to hold her down when she tried to get up again. But that meant she was free to punch and kick at him all she wanted.

“Please, calm down,” he pleaded, wincing when she punched him straight in the shoulder. “I do care if you get hurt, that’s why I’m here, ok?”

Her head felt like it was going to tear in two with the sharp pain that just kept growing, but she was seeing red and she just couldn’t stop digging into him now that the floodgates had opened. 

“You say you care,” she yelled in a half sob, because now the tears were starting to squeeze their way out and run down her cheeks, “but you’ve been so cold to me all Winter, without even telling me why. You’ve ignored me, come up with excuses for avoiding me and not even given me a chance to understand why! If there even _ is _a why!”

He’d completely stopped trying to fend her off now, barely even holding her down as he took each hit and jab in silence. But she wasn’t trying to get up and leave anymore. She just wanted to punch him, to hurt him for having hurt her so badly by leaving her behind without an explanation.

“You didn’t ignore _ anyone else_,” she sobbed as she tried to blink away the tears so she could see him through the blur. “Just me. I tried, _ so hard_, to brush it off. To, to make excuses for you.” She kicked up at his thigh, snivelling as she closed her eyes against the tears. “Maybe he’s just having a rough week, I told myself. Maybe he’s just having a rough _ month. _ But you, you just didn’t care anymore. Even if I got hurt, even if other people came forward to make sure I was ok, you just… You just _ looked _at me. If even that much!”

She punctuated the last word with another punch, but this time as it landed, Arlo grunted in pain. The sound made her stop and reach up with her hands to rub away the tears from her eyes, and when she opened them and looked up at him, he had closed his own eyes and was gritting his teeth, clearly in physical pain. She inhaled sharply, blinking as she realised for the first time that there were bandages around his forearms and hands, and scrapes and shallow wounds on his biceps. Panting from the exertion of her struggle, she let her gaze move up to his face to look at him, _ really _look at him, and wouldn’t you know it, now she could discern shallow cuts on his cheek and forehead too. Her heart dropped.

Another inhalation made his eyes flutter open and meet her gaze, and he drew in a shivering breath that caused him to wince.

“What,” she breathed, trying to collect her thoughts even as the pain continued tearing at her brain, “what happened to you?”

He clearly made an attempt at smoothing his face out again, but she could still see the lingering remains of pain from wherever she’d punched him that last time, and a pang of guilt stabbed through her.

“Never mind that,” he said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Hannah frowned, as much from her own pain as from confusion about his answer, because if she asked him what happened, that meant she wanted to know, so why did he say it didn’t matter? Why would he… Oh. Oh no.

“Did… did you get hurt because of me?” she whispered, hoping she would have misunderstood things, but the moment she saw him clench his jaw she knew she’d been right. “Arlo, what happened? What happened to me? To you?”

His gaze fluttered away for a second before returning to her, and she could see him debate with himself whether to tell her the truth or not. And seeing that she’d been trying to deliberately hurt him with both punches and words just a moment ago, she guessed that was fair, but… She really needed to know. She’d just assumed he’d exaggerated her injury, but if it was true that he’d gotten hurt while saving her, and he had all those wounds and those bandages… It must have been bad. Much worse than she’d thought.

When he didn’t answer, her tears started flowing again. His face softened immediately, one hand coming up to stroke away some of them from her right cheek. “I don’t think this is the right time to talk about that,” he said gently.

“Please,” she whispered, then snivelled. “I need to know now.”

Arlo sighed, stroking away the tears from her other cheek as well before pulling back to sit up beside her on the bed. She slowly sat up as well, pushing up the pillow behind her before scooting back against it. 

“Do you remember what you told me when we ran into each other this morning?”

She frowned as she tried to recall the memory, but she couldn’t even remember that they’d seen each other that morning. Where had she even been going? What had her plans been for today? It was all lost to her.

Her expression seemed to be enough of a response for him, because he gave her a pained look before continuing.

“You said you were going to the desert ruins,” he said. “Something about… finding more relic pieces.”

Hannah nodded slowly as bits of the memory returned with his words. Yes… Yes, she had been fairly sure she was missing a piece of the old talker, and Petra had told her the strange clock she’d found was supposed to have an owl head… It made sense that she would try to find the last pieces of them. But what did that have to do with their injuries?

… Wait.

“Are you,” she started breathlessly, gaze raking all over him as she tried to piece together the puzzle, “are you saying…?”

“There was an explosion,” he confirmed, and her breath caught in her throat, because that meant… “I got there about forty minutes later, and half the floor was collapsed. I couldn’t see you anywhere, so I…” He paused to draw in a shaky breath. “I went to where the explosion happened and dropped into the hole, and I found you.”

He… he went into the _ hole? _ The hole in the ruin floor, and went _ inside? _ She gaped at him, but his eyes were glazing over and he didn’t even seem to see her, present her, anymore.

“You were crawling down a corridor,” he continued in a shaky murmur. “But you fell over as soon as I got to your side, and then you stopped answering me. You stopped responding _ at all _ to _ anything _ that happened around you.. _ . _”

His face contorted into a pained and worried grimace, breath hitching slightly as he lost himself further in his memory.

“You were in a hallway outside some abandoned rooms, surrounded by burn marks and pieces of metal sticking out of the walls, the floor slowly being covered with sand and loose dirt,” he whispered, and she could see the fear shine through in his eyes. “Your pulse was weak and you were barely breathing. I’ve never spurred Spacer on as hard as I did on my way back to town, to the clinic. I sat by your hospital bed for _ three hours _ before you even started to wake up. Three hours of not knowing if you’d ever wake up again.” His voice cracked at the end, and he turned his head away from her, breathing deeply through his nose.

She could only stare at him. The mere thought that he’d gone through all of that… That he’d had to face his absolute worst fears just to save her… 

It was so wrong, and confusing, and she couldn’t wrap her head around why he’d do all of that just for the tiniest chance that he’d find her alive. Because with all the holes he must have found in the ground… And with him arriving so long after the explosion… Even if it was his job to protect the people of Portia, it was reckless and stupid to go in under those conditions when he didn’t even have backup from Sam and Remy. Even with his natural chivalry, she knew he wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that under normal circumstances. So if he did it for her, then that… That must mean…

Another sob slipped out, followed by another, followed by a string of snivels before she broke out into loud, violent crying that shook her whole body. She brought her hands up to her face to try to hide from him, because he didn’t need to see this; didn’t need to see her break down like this. 

She felt his hand carefully grip her shoulder, then squeeze it when she didn’t flinch or push him away.

“Hannah,” he said softly. “Hannah, it’s fine. You’re ok now.”

She would have glared at him if it hadn’t been for all the tears clouding her vision, because why didn’t he get it? Why didn’t he get that she wasn’t crying because of what she’d gone through, but because of what he’d gone through for her? Because of what it meant?

“Why, why did you, did you leave me?” she snivelled out between sobs. She wiped the tears from her eyes as best she could, then removed her hands to look at him. “Why, Arlo?”

He looked confused for a moment, but then he seemed to get what she was referring to, because he whined and squeezed his eyes closed as if in pain for a second before they sprang open again. “Hannah, I—I—shit, I’ve...”

He reached for her hands in her lap and she let him take them, watching as he gently stroked their backs while he looked at her with a gaze full of remorse.

“I… I’ve been a right arse,” he said quietly. “There are no excuses for what I’ve done, I know that, but I need you to know that I didn’t pull away from you because I stopped caring about you, or anything even remotely like that.”

She nodded around another snivel, because she knew he was telling the truth. She might not know what the real reason was, but she knew now that he did still care about her. He cared enough about her to risk his own life for her when he didn’t even know if she was still alive.

“Then why?” she whispered.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and she watched in confusion as his eyelids fluttered and a shiver seemed to go through his body. When he looked back at her again, there was something new in his gaze. Something almost dark.

“Hannah, I know this might not be the best time for this, but I have a confession to make, and I really need you to try to listen to what I have to tell you. Ok?”

She sniffled, nodding slowly, because she wasn’t angry anymore, she just wanted to _ know. _

He nodded too, breathing deep breaths as he seemed to ready himself to tell her about whatever he needed to get out of his system.

“Last Summer,” he began in a low voice, holding her gaze steadily, “you started… teasing me. Flirting. Stolen glances when you thought I wasn’t looking, and long, telling looks when you knew I was. Inappropriate touches that lingered for just _ slightly _too long...”

He trailed off, taking another deep breath, and she was almost afraid to hear more, because she was starting to see where he was going.

“Offering to take layers off,” he continued, voice strained but gaze never wavering, even as his Adam’s apple bobbed in a gulp. “Asking me to show you how to make suitable ties around your wrists. Making comments about using my hands for… things. Or…” A visible shiver went through his body, and he drew for air once again. “Or asking if I would help you test _ how sturdy _your new bed frame was.”

He looked at her, waiting, and so she let out a weak, breathless “yeah,” hoping it would be enough. His eyelids fluttered again, and then he looked away for a second before forcing his gaze back to hers again.

“Well… All of that,” he murmured, “all of that messing with me… I know you probably didn’t mean anything by it, you’d never want to hurt me, but I—I couldn’t take it.”

He swallowed, and then his hands squeezed hers.

“Hannah, it might just be harmless fun to you, but to me, it’s serious. I… wanted more. But I couldn’t stand it when you kept flirting with me like it was just a game. So I… I took a step back. Well... several steps back,” he mumbled.

Hannah could only stare at him, wide-eyed and confused. “You… what,” she breathed, trying to connect the dots in her brain but failing spectacularly. Because this was_ not _what she had expected.

“And I know,” he said, nodding with a pained look in his eyes, “I know that’s no excuse for treating you like I have. But I didn’t do it to hurt you, even if that’s what I clearly ended up doing. I did it to preserve myself, because if I hadn’t, I’d have…” He trailed off with a half whine. 

“You’re… you’re…”

He clenched his jaw as he waited for her to finish, to find the right words to get out whatever she needed to say, but she was so dumbfounded by his whole explanation she wasn’t sure she could even wrap her head around it. What ended up coming out at last was,

“You’re an idiot!”

A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows before he started nodding. She didn’t know if it was in agreement or encouragement for her to go on, but she took it as the latter. Her hands leaving his, she reached forward and shoved him back--not hard, not enough to make him even lose his balance, but enough of a shove that it should get her point across.

“You… you fluff brained, empty-headed lump of panbat poop!” she whined, weakly punching him in the shoulder. “Why would you… Why would you think I didn’t mean any of it?”

She readied herself to throw another soft punch at him, but this time, he caught her fist and pulled her to him so she fell against his chest. She resorted to pinching him in the side instead, at which he yelped and scrambled to catch her around the wrists.

“I meant all of it,” she continued in a slurred mumble, her head starting to feel more woozy than in pain now. She pressed her cheek against his chest, letting out an annoyed exhalation before going on with her rant. “I still mean it. I _ want _ to take your clothes off. I _ want _ you to tie me up. I _ want _ you to test out my bed with me, it’s not like there’s anyone _ else _in Portia I want to do that with? You dumb, puffy llama, I want you to tie me to my bed and--”

“Ok ok,” he hurried to say, letting go of one of her wrists to instead stroke her over the hair with the unbandaged backs of his fingers. “I think that’s enough. I, I think you might not be fully yourself right now, maybe we should have this conversation in a few days instead? How does that sound?”

He squeezed her face closer to his chest, so her response only came out as a muffled “mmpf”, but fine, she was feeling kind of hot and worn out, and the pain was coming back again. She sighed and relaxed into him, closing her eyes as he continued to stroke her hair. Being in his arms like this made her feel safer than she’d felt in a long, long time, and as the snivels started mellowing out, they were exchanged for yawns. 

“Please don’t go,” she slurred when she felt him shift, but then he stilled, and she realised he’d just shifted back against the wall and pulled her a bit closer so they’d both be more comfortable.

“I won’t,” he said softly. “Just try to relax, ok?”

“Mm,” she sighed, allowing herself to lift her head slightly and dig her nose into the collar of his t-shirt, just below the bare skin of his neck, and _ good glorycroc _did he smell amazing. He must have showered recently, because there was none of the usual smell of horse or hay or the other work-related things she remembered his smell to contain, but there was nevertheless no doubt that this was her Arlo. Just the sweet musky scent of his warm skin made her unconsciously dig her fingers into his chest and hum softly in pleasure. He’d… he’d stay. She knew he would, this time.

She could… relax… for now… and maybe next time she woke up, maybe her head would be clear again. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

And even if it did… What mattered was that she had Arlo by her side again. That’s all that mattered.

* * *

Arlo stared down at the sleeping figure in his lap as he slowly stroked her hair again and again. The repeating movement, together with her soft, calm breathing below him, was almost like meditation. He was afraid to stop, not only because he didn’t want her to wake up when she clearly needed sleep, but also because he didn’t want this dream to end. It had to be a dream, right? How else could it be explained that Hannah, whom he’d distanced himself from and hurt badly over the past four months, was now sleeping soundly in his lap again just like old times? How else could it be explained that she had said she meant all her flirting back in Summer? That really was too good to be true after everything he’d done, after everything he’d assumed, so it must just be a vivid dream. And he didn’t want to wake up.

Even if it wasn’t a dream, even if all of this had just happened as he remembered it, he had to keep in mind that Hannah had a concussion. She might not mean what she said today, and she might not even remember it tomorrow. That’s why he’d had to stop her before she went on to say things she would regret when she was healthy again. He didn’t want her to start avoiding him out of shame or regret, and he didn’t want to take advantage of her being in a confused state. If she really did mean everything she’d said, she’d say it again. And if not… Best not to get his hopes up.

A faint sound from the hallway caught his attention; it sounded like a knock on the front door. But he couldn’t go open the door, and he couldn’t shout for whoever it was to come in, so he hoped they’d take the hint and leave, or--if it was important--come inside anyway. Preferably the first option, because with Hannah asleep in his lap like this, he wasn’t really ready to face any other of the Portia inhabitants right now. Not that he’d leave her side if someone did come in. Nothing short of a crisis would make him leave Hannah tonight.

The door opened in the other room, and Arlo tensed, letting his hand stop moving over Hannah’s hair. He turned to the doorway just as Sam walked inside, and immediately relaxed, because ok, Sam he could take. She’d understand.

Her gaze darted from him to Hannah and back, and then she started grinning before mouthing a ‘hello’ at him. He inclined his head in greeting before glancing down at Hannah. He didn’t want to leave her side, but Sam wouldn’t show up here if it wasn’t important, and he’d rather not wake Hannah if he could help it. Carefully lifting her head and arms up and moving them over so she had her head resting on the pillow instead, he got up from the bed and pulled up the covers over her before walking up to Sam.

“How is she?” she asked quietly.

“Better, I think.”

“Good. Though seeing how she’s still clinging to you, I’d say another storm’s brewing.” 

Her tone was light, but he knew she meant it as a warning. He winced, but not for the reason she’d think. No, hopefully the storm had passed, but she wasn’t wrong to caution him. She knew better than anyone how he’d hurt Hannah. He wished he could tell her that they’d made up now, that he’d apologised to her, but to tell the truth, he didn’t know if Hannah would remember any of it. Maybe he’d have to repeat this tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after _ that… _ Even if that was the case, it’d be worth it in the end. But he silently hoped she’d remember at least the important bits of tonight.

“Everything ok out there?” he asked to change the subject.

Sam sighed and placed her hands at her sides. “That’s the thing. I’ve tried to keep things up and running, but with the ruin this unstable and all the damage it has caused… Portia needs its Captain. I could try to write up the reports for you, but apparently the smoke was seen from Sandrock, and there was an inspector there from the Alliance who passed it on, so now the Alliance has been contacting Gale, trying to reach you for more information. Then there’s the risk that there might be something unstable down in the ruins that could set off other explosions, and some of the Portians are worried. And don’t even get me started on Lee… There’s just a shit storm right now, Arlo.”

Arlo glanced back at Hannah, who was still sound asleep. He wasn’t normally one to skip out on his duties, but he’d promised not to leave her. “I… don’t know, Sam. Do you need me right this moment?”

“I’m really sorry, but yeah, I’ve already stalled all that I can. People are starting to wonder where you are.” She paused while he glanced back at Hannah again; she was stirring. “I could look out for her for tonight, and then if you still need to work tomorrow, I’ll ask Nora. She’ll be fine, ok?”

He turned back to Sam with a sigh. “Ok. I’ll go.”

“Mm… Arlo? Whas… going on?”

His head whipped round to watch Hannah sit up in bed and blink tiredly at him. “Hannah,” he exhaled, glancing at Sam before walking up to the bed and sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He reached out to stroke her cheek; he didn’t even care if Sam saw. “I have some work things to sort out, I’m sorry. Sam will be here to look after you while I’m gone.”

She scrunched up her nose in confusion, peering at him for a moment before she seemed to understand. Then her eyes widened in feverish worry. She scrambled for his hand, taking it from her cheek and squeezing it weakly in hers.

“Please don’t leave,” she whispered.

He had to strain himself not to wince. “I… I’m sorry, I really need to. Trust me, I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t really important. I promise I’ll be back though.”

“Ok,” she said quietly.

He leant in to kiss her on the forehead, then stopped himself as he remembered Sam was in the room. Maybe that was taking it a _ tad _ bit too far. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder with his free hand.

“Try to get some more sleep.”

He was just about to get up and leave, when Hannah scrambled to grab his hand with both of hers. He paused, watching as she raised it up to her face to nuzzle the backs of his fingers with her cheek. Her eyes wide and glossy, she stared right into his eyes as she begged, “_Please _, don’t misunderstand things again. Don’t disappear again?”

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at her pleading words, then nodded and pulled her hands to him to plant a kiss on the back of one of them. “I won’t,” he whispered.

She nodded, eyes half closing as she lay back down again, letting her hands slip away from his. Arlo took a deep breath, ran a hand over his hair and turned to Sam, who had faced the couch and was pretending to read some of his notes from earlier.

“Take care of her,” he said, using his authoritative voice without even realising it. She turned his way and nodded solemnly as he walked past her towards the front door.

When he’d closed the door behind his back, he took a moment to lean against it and breathe a few calm breaths. Holy duck pond, Hannah had asked him not to misunderstand things and disappear again. That must mean she really had been lucid enough to mean what she’d said earlier. And that meant… That meant she might actually want him to do all those things to her that she’d said she wanted. 

He shook his shoulders and straightened, starting towards Spacer waiting in Hannah’s stable. This was _ not _the time to think about that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and he had work to do. He needed to keep his head clear.

As soon as he had a bit of time to spare, he would go see her again. And then, one day when she was feeling healthy enough, he’d bring all of this up with her. No more hesitation. No more assumptions. 

This time, he was doing things the right way. The straightforward way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This chapter is the most edited one in this entire fic. I've completely rewritten it twice only this past weekend!! 
> 
> It's also the very first chapter that was written for this fic. It was VERY different then, back in May/June of 2019 - Hannah had another name and both she and Arlo had other personalities, the setup for the scene was completely different, it all played out in an entirely different way, and the title was something else. It was also a Choose Your Own Adventure back then, with options ranging from family friendly fluff to hardcore smut! Good times, good times. Then we decided it needed some more backstory, and the backstory needed its own backstory, and then... we ended up with this major monster fic of over 100k words. Yelp.
> 
> Well, I hope you all like the chapter (and the fic) as it turned out in the end! ^_^
> 
> /Ladroitte


	31. Control, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo finally has a free moment to go talk to Hannah - and when he does, he gets an unexpected surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Being Restrained / Slight Angst / Pie

March 13th, Friday 

Arlo zipped his jacket all the way up to his collar and tucked his hands in its pockets, shivering as another gust of wind took root in the air and threatened to topple him where he stood on top of the wall next to the gate, gazing out over the fields. He knew the sun was still high in the sky, though he couldn’t see it for the thick wad of clouds. The storm had set in late last night, and the morning had barely brought enough light to rouse McDonald’s cock from its sleep. Glancing over his shoulder, Arlo couldn’t see more than a few scattered figures hurrying across the plaza, stumbling around as they tried not to fall over from the raging winds sweeping through the large, empty space around the fountain. And it was just as well. The Corps had gone out with a class two warning last night, meaning all the shops had closed and most people had stayed inside all morning. Only Django was bold enough to keep his establishment open, but then again, a lot of people depended on the restaurant for their meals, especially when the other shops had shut down for the day. He didn’t know how many bodies were inside the Round Table at the moment, but he’d bet Django and Sonia had never had their hands fuller than today.

Turning forward again, Arlo let his gaze fall on Hannah’s house with a sigh. This was the perfect chance to see her. The worst of the work that had piled up after the explosion had been dealt with, and excepting any potential property damage that might result from trees falling over or creatures getting agitated by the storm, a day like this wasn’t bound to demand much from him. Not in comparison to how hectic the week had been. He’d only had time to spare late in the evenings, and when he’d finally dropped by Hannah’s, she’d been asleep and he hadn’t wanted to rouse her. He’d just sat by the side of her bed for a little while, then drifted around her house in the faint hope that she might eventually wake up by herself, then given up and left before it got so late it just felt strange to be in her house while she slept, unaware of his presence. 

He wasn’t even sure she knew he’d been by at all. And that was one of the reasons he was anxious to visit her now. He could only see two possible scenarios for his visit. Either she didn’t remember anything they’d talked about last Saturday, and so was still angry with him, or she _ did _remember, but felt betrayed by him because he hadn’t come back like he promised he would. Either way, he’d have to deal with sad, hurt Hannah again, and he didn’t know if he was ready to go through that again. Then again, it was better than unconscious, barely alive Hannah, who had been haunting his dreams--or nightmares, really--ever since Saturday. Yes, anything but that Hannah. He’d even take violent, furious Hannah over that Hannah.

His right hand unconsciously left the jacket pocket and went to the ribs on his left side, where she’d really gotten a good hit in last time. There was only phantom pain left from that now, but the memory was still clear and vivid in his mind. Strange, because the physical pain had been far from the worst part of that day.

He let out a shuddering sigh as his hand dropped back to his side. What the heck was he doing? He had a chance, an actual chance, to see Hannah, and here he was being all stupidly anxious about it? _ Get a grip. _

Waiting until the wind had calmed down for a moment, he stepped off the edge of the wall and dropped smoothly into the grass beneath. He absent-mindedly avoided all the little stones and piles of sticks lying around, so used to them at this point that he barely even registered them as he trudged towards Hannah’s.

Almost an entire week had passed since the explosion, but he knew people were still taking turns checking on her. He hadn’t been the one to explicitly ask for it--it had been Sam and Remy’s idea to have a rolling schedule--but he was infinitely grateful for how it had turned out, because he didn’t think he would have been able to concentrate on his work if he didn’t know Hannah was safe and sound in her home. And of course his teammates knew that.

He had no clue who was watching her today, though. Last night when he came over, it had been Nora, and the night before that had been Alice and Jack, so it could be Emily tonight, he supposed. Well, it didn’t matter. He could ask whoever it was for a moment alone with Hannah, and they’d understand. They’d probably leave before he even finished asking, he thought with a slight wince. Everyone had been so considerate and understanding, constantly offering reassurances that Hannah would be fine, and whatever support he needed. Because _ apparently _ everyone in town thought they’d been together since Summer, and had just managed to become more discreet over Winter. Sam had pulled him aside to explain all of that after Gale had cornered him on Tuesday. The guilt was eating away at him every time he noticed a sympathetic smile, or felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, because he didn’t deserve it. Not only had he let Hannah down, but he’d now tricked the whole town? But he had to keep pretending at this point, because it was far too late to come clean. 

Arlo moved to knock on the door, then stopped before his fist had even hit the wooden surface. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the strong wind sway him sideways as he gathered his courage. Realistically, what was the chance Hannah was going to remember their conversation from Saturday? She’d been in and out of it the whole afternoon, and fallen asleep in a fever right in the middle of their talk. What was the chance she had been herself at that point? 

_ No, _ he scolded himself as he pried his eyes open. _ No, I’m not doing this again. _ He’d promised himself he’d take the straightforward path from now on, and he’d promised Hannah he wouldn’t leave her again. That he wouldn’t misunderstand her again. He was going to walk right in and tell her how he felt. He wasn’t even going to hesitate. Maybe he’d even walk up to her and pull her to him, then--

He let out a surprised yelp and jumped back as the door flew open and nearly slammed into the wall before Emily threw herself after it and got it back under control. Bent over with the door knob stuck in her left elbow, she raised her right hand to push half of her hair out of her face as she looked up at Arlo with an apologetic smile. He reached out to help her hold the door as another strong gust took advantage of its surface and threatened to pull it off its hinges.

“Good Peach, it’s a little windy out, isn’t it?” she laughed.

“Just a tad,” he replied, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. “Were you leaving?”

“I was just going to check on Adrien and Marinette,” she said as she cautiously let go of the door knob, then straightened when she saw that he had the door under control. “We brought them over to McDonald’s barn earlier to shield them from the wind, and I wanted to make sure they’re ok. But I’ll be quick on my feet!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but she was already off, holding her hair in place as she stumbled against the wind on her path towards Hannah’s gate. Well. All right. He’d hoped to take her place as Hannah’s guard for tonight, but he could just as well ask her when she returned.

He stepped inside and tugged the door closed, taking a moment to breathe in relief at the silence. He could still hear faint traces of the storm, but it was nothing compared to the roars of its winds outside.

Absentmindedly kicking off his shoes and running a hand through his hair to get it in some semblance of order, he leant to the side to try and peer into Hannah’s bedroom, which was covered in darkness. Was she asleep? He was about to walk over to check, when he heard a laugh from the kitchen. His head snapped around to face the sound, forehead furrowing as he started towards it. There was a sweet scent coming from that very direction--was she _ baking_?

“Hannah?” he asked, but it came out so quiet that he didn’t expect her to hear. He could hear her talking; maybe to herself? Would she… would she still be confused, almost a week later?

Hurrying his pace, he walked into the light pooling out from the kitchen, then stopped dead in his tracks as Hannah came into view.

She was standing by her sink, just turning the tap off and shaking water off her hands as she laughed again. The loose-fitting clothes Nora had picked out for her last Saturday were exchanged for clothing that seemed more like Hannah’s usual style: there was the bright yellow tank top with a low cut in the back that he could remember his fingertips brushing over so many times in the past, and then of course, _ of course, _ she’d put on her tightest, shortest, most revealing pair of jeans shorts, and her legs were completely bare all the way down to her feet. 

Her hair was hanging loose over her shoulders, hiding her back, and he just had the thought how unusual it was to see her without her hair up, when she reached back and started gathering it in her hands. He watched as the long, soft strands almost glittered in the light from the kitchen lamp above as she brushed her fingers through them, collecting wisps of hair from the sides as she went, before finally using a scrunchie from her wrist to tie it all together into a ponytail.

But as the hair was pulled away from her neck, Arlo’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large, dark marks on her light skin; blue, brown, some almost black, some as big as his entire right hand while others were smaller and spotted around between the larger ones. Xu had said her back would bruise, but seeing this now…

_ Hannah covered in dirt and debris. Hannah crawling down a cramped tunnel while little rocks rain down over her. Hannah limp and lifeless in my arms. _

He inhaled sharply and made to walk up to her, to embrace her, to just _ feel _her alive and well, when a movement at the corner of his eyes caused him to stop yet again. His next breath hitched firmly in his throat when a familiar figure in a bear cloak stood up from one of the chairs by the kitchen table and stretched lazily while half stumbling towards Hannah. A laughing Hannah, who reached forward to turn on the tap again, then tuck her hands into the stream of water before moving back to splash it all in Oaks’ direction. He dodged, but he was a second too late, and so the water hit him straight in the chest. It must have been cold, because he yelped as he jumped back, causing Hannah to pull her bottom lip in between her teeth as her eyes lit up with mischief before she laughed again when he tried to wipe the drops away with his hands.

Arlo could only stare, feeling like he’d walked in on something secret and intimate; like he’d walked in on a life he’d never been and never would be a part of. Like he was an invisible spectator doomed to watch as the love of his life lived out her days happily unaware of his existence. He shouldn’t be here. She’d built a life here without him, a life that was _ better _ without him. She’d just recovered from his betrayal, and here he was, trying to step right back in like nothing had happened, when he hadn’t done _ anything _to deserve to be welcomed back. It wasn’t right. He should… he should leave. Just… 

He started backing away without even thinking, needing to get out of there before she noticed he’d ever come over, before she realised he’d been intruding on her and Oaks. But his head wasn’t in the game, and so his feet stumbled over each other, and he had to clumsily catch himself against the door frame.

Like a play on a stage, the performers in the kitchen froze and turned towards their one man audience. Hannah’s easy smile went away in an instant, exchanged for confusion as her gaze landed on Arlo. And for the longest two seconds in his life, she looked at him almost like she didn’t even recognise him. The air rushed out of his lungs, his body pleading with him to run, just turn around and run--but then something changed in Hannah’s face. And because he was filled to the brim with adrenaline, his eyes took in every little twitch in her muscles; it started with a slight widening of her eyes, followed by her eyebrows shooting up and furrowing her forehead, and then, like magic, her mouth widened into a grin as a familiar gleam sparkled to life in her eyes. Arlo found himself unable to move as he watched her entire being perk up, her fingers flexing eagerly and her shoulders shooting up in the way that he’d long ago come to learn meant she could barely keep herself contained. He could only blink at her, at this beautiful, amazing creature, as her face opened up to him in a way he hadn’t seen in months and hadn’t thought he would ever see again. 

That look couldn’t be misinterpreted. He’d seen it so many times, lately only in his nightmares, and if someone had woken him up in the middle of the night to give him a sketch book and tell him to draw Hannah at her happiest, most relaxed and affectionate, he would have drawn her exactly like this. Yet a drawing--and especially one created by his inexperienced and clumsy hands--could never have replicated the pure life and joy Hannah radiated in this very moment, as she looked not at Oaks, but at _ him_. She looked at _ him _ like that!

His name rushed out between her lips in what sounded almost like a plea, and the thin ice he’d been standing on shattered in an instant. Months of pent up feelings and an entire week’s worth of stress and worry bubbled up and overflowed, and with nothing left to stand on, with no safety left to cling to, he was dropped a hundred feet into an ice cold lake that washed away all of those burning feelings the second he went below its surface. The relief was so overwhelming, so palpable, it was like the entire world and all the worries in it washed off and drained away into the ground, and everything left was Hannah. Hannah and her most sincere, happiest smile that she was aiming at _ him. _

He had to stop himself from raising his arms in a ‘come here’ gesture, wanting so badly to feel her in his arms again, but knowing that he wasn’t really entitled to it after everything he’d done. Maybe Hannah saw his muscles twitch though, because her gaze flickered to his arms, and then she got this almost mischievous glint in her eyes. And that was the only warning he got before she started running towards him. Widening his eyes in earnest surprise, he lifted his arms just in time to catch her as she jumped up and threw her arms around him, raising her legs around his hips and causing him to stumble back at the impact. His back hit the wall as his hands automatically went to her thighs to keep her in place against him, and saucy noodles, that felt _ right _ in so many ways, but he couldn’t allow himself to focus on that at the moment, because Hannah--Hannah who had a concussion, Hannah whom he’d distanced himself from for the past four months--had just _ jumped him_.

His breath caught when she dug her face into his neck and started rubbing her cheek against him in the affectionate way she’d used to do when she was happy to see him, and he made himself swallow. Golden Ginseng, what alternate dimension had he just walked into? 

“Should you really be this active right now?” he asked, voice cracking as her nose brushed his pulse point, before internally swearing when she froze in his arms and he realised how she might have taken it. “Not that I object, not at all, but has, er, has Xu given you the all clear?”

She pulled back a bit to look at him. That happy glint was still there, but as she took a moment to let her gaze move across his face, her eyes slowly narrowed in thought. Then the mischievous gleam returned with full force. “Mm, kind of. I have to wait a few more days before I can work again, but he didn’t say anything about jumping people.” 

He blinked at her. “Oh,” he choked out, at which she laughed the most musical laughter he’d ever heard.

“It’s not like I’ve jumped anyone but you, anyway. I’ve been a good, well-behaved patient. Right, Oaks?”

Arlo’s gaze snapped to the other man in the room, just now remembering his presence. Oh. Right. Oaks was there, watching all of this play out. Arlo tried to hold in a wince, fighting his impulse to let go of Hannah, because _ no. _ He wasn’t making that mistake again. 

The bear boy seemed to have been staring at them with a fond look in his eyes, but blinked and turned to Hannah when she called his name. With a short laugh, he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah! No jumping. And absolutely no climbing kitchen counters to reach the pie dishes at the back of the top shelf--”

“Oaks!!!”

Hannah scowled darkly at Oaks, pouting her lips in disappointment, but he just gave her an apologetic smile before turning to Arlo.

“I stood behind her making sure she wouldn’t fall,” he said, maybe in an attempt to soften the blow.

Arlo sighed and squeezed Hannah’s thighs without really thinking, making her jump a little and look back at him with cheeks starting to colour.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” he asked quietly, but he let his mouth quirk up into a small smile so she wouldn’t think he was angry with her. For some reason, her blush grew in strength.

“I wanted to bake a pie,” she mumbled.

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning at how adorable she was. Spiky urchins, he wanted to lean in and kiss her. He wanted it so badly. It wouldn’t even have to be a kiss on the mouth; just a peck on her nose would be enough. But even _ that _he couldn’t allow himself, not when Oaks was standing there at least.

Hannah glanced to the side, and he was almost ready to believe she had read his mind when he heard her next words. “Oaks,” she said in an easy voice, though he could hear a strain beneath it. “Do you think you could go look how Emily’s doing? Help her check on the horses?”

With his gaze fully focused on Hannah’s face, Arlo just saw Oaks move out of the corner of his eyes.

“Ooooh-kaaaay,” he said with a sigh, making Arlo think he had no clue what Hannah was hinting at, but he did start to leave the room. “Just don’t forget to take out the pie in ten minutes, I don’t want your house to have burned down when I come back.”

Arlo made a mental note of that even as Hannah rolled her eyes.

“I’m _ twenty_,” she called after Oaks, “not six!”

Biting down a smile, Arlo waited until he heard the front door close, then moved his hands from her thighs to her hips, thinking she might want to get down, but she didn’t move an inch. He fought with himself for a second before returning his hands to her thighs, trying not to think about how close his fingers were to the hem of her shorts. Suddenly acutely aware of all the points where her body pressed against his, he was finding it hard to gather his thoughts into some semblance of sense. But he needed to check how much she remembered of their conversation last Saturday, and he needed to do it before they did anything else.

“So you’ve been busy, then,” he said carefully. “How’s the concussion?”

If she realised he was trying to figure out how lucid she’d been, she didn’t show it. “I’m fine. My head stings now and then, but I haven’t been in any real pain for a few days now.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s good. And, er, how about confusion? Any more episodes?”

“Nope. Not since Tuesday, I think.” She paused, studying him a bit more closely. “Did… did you visit after Saturday? I mean, Sam told me you’ve been here every night after I’d already fallen asleep, but I don’t remember if you were here on Sunday or Monday?”

So Sam had told her that, huh. He had to remember to thank her for that later.

“I’m sorry, no,” he murmured, allowing himself to lean his forehead against hers, and sighing softly when she bumped his nose with hers in response. “Things have been a little… hectic this week.”

“Sam told me that too,” she replied. 

Ok. Sam was definitely getting a raise after this. A raise and a new pair of boxing gloves.

A puff of hot air touched his lips, and he realised Hannah had opened her mouth a little, and was breathing softly against him. He wanted to lick his lips to see if he could taste any of her on them, but they were so close at this point that he was afraid he would be licking her lips as well if he did that. Which… wasn’t necessarily something he’d refuse if she offered, but it didn’t seem like the proper thing to do right now.

He swallowed in an attempt to get his thoughts back on track. He wasn’t really getting anywhere with his current line of questioning, and if she was going to keep breathing against him like this, he needed to get to the point sooner rather than later.

“Hannah, I need to ask,” he started quietly, pausing as he felt her shiver in his arms. He moved his hands to her butt so he could press his forearms against her thighs in an attempt to warm her up, in case she was cold. She was only wearing a tank top and shorts after all--and no, shit, bad thoughts, he wasn’t supposed to think about how the naked insides of her thighs were squeezing his torso--

“Ask what?” she murmured, snapping him out of his spiralling thoughts. 

“Er,” he said before clearing his throat, “sorry. Look Hannah, I’m not going to make the mistake of not talking things through this time. I’m guessing you do remember at least parts of our talk last Saturday, since… you know…” He squeezed her against him and was rewarded with a sharp exhalation against his lips. “But I need to know _ what _you remember, and how much of it you still mean today.”

She shifted a little against him, and maybe this time she wanted to get down, so he loosened his grip--only to have her push closer again, almost like a warning not to leave her. His hold firmed again, his nose rubbing against hers in reassurance. _ I’m right here. _

“I think I remember all of it,” she said slowly, clearly thinking back in her mind. 

“Tell me what you remember,” he whispered. He needed to hear her say it.

She let out a tiny whine and squeezed her eyes closed. Arlo bumped his forehead a little harder against hers, and it seemed to help her enough that she could open her eyes and look up at him again.

“I asked why you left me,” she started after another beat. “You apologised and… you said you wanted more than friendship. And I forgave you and said I did too, and then I think… I think I fell asleep.”

Air rushed out of his lungs in the most relieved sigh he’d ever experienced. There it was. Not only did she remember, she even said she _ forgave _him. She remembered his explanation. She remembered him saying he had wanted more. And she still forgave him! 

“You… really meant all of the flirting then?” he asked, allowing his spark of hope to grow.

She nodded so quickly and sincerely that he could swear her lips brushed against his at one point, causing his breath to catch.

“Even after… after all of Winter?”

She didn’t reply right away, which started leading him down the path of anxiety before he realised that it was a good thing. He needed her to be sure of what she was feeling, or he wouldn’t be able to act on it. If she took the time to really consider her answer before giving it to him, it wouldn’t be rushed. It would be sincere. And sincere was what they both needed.

“Yeah,” she whispered breathily after a precious moment. “I meant everything, and I still mean it now.”

His thoughts were already starting to run wild, bringing up everything she’d ever flirted with him about, but he didn’t dare to fully believe in it yet. This could just… It could just be a dream. Or a joke. No, not a joke, Hannah wouldn’t joke about this, but… Could it really be? Could it really be that Hannah wanted more from him than friendship?

“You don’t just think of me as a friend?” he murmured to make sure, and like clockwork, another shiver went through Hannah’s body. And oh, right, she’d used to do that, hadn’t she? It had completely vanished from his mind, but yes, Hannah had used to like it when he lowered his voice. So if she did that now… Then maybe the answer to his question was--

“No,” she whispered emphatically, which just about broke him, because she was looking at him like he was the only thing in the world she’d ever cared about, and it made it almost impossible to get fresh air into her lungs.

His hands pressed more firmly against her, needing her still closer than she was, even though they basically had their faces smashed together at this point. “So what am I to you then?”

Hannah bit down a whimper, closing her eyes for a second to centre herself before opening them and meeting his gaze again. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly considering her answer.

“You’re… you’re,” she started laboriously. She glanced up towards their joined foreheads and swallowed. “You’re… safety.”

Whatever he had expected her to say, that wasn’t it. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, pulling back a bit to get a better look at her as he scanned her face again.

“Safety?” he asked, because that seemed… unlikely after everything that had happened.

She nodded firmly. “Yeah. I feel safe when I’m with you,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth so quickly that they just about blended into each other. “I feel safe, and warm, and happy with you. And cared for. Like everything will be all right as long as you’re by my side… But not like a friend,” she assured him quickly, lowering her head slightly to look up at him from beneath her lashes. “I wouldn’t want the things I do from you, from a friend.”

He parted his lips to let out a soft breath in surprise; a breath that then turned into a slightly faster breathing pattern as his hands moved back to her naked thighs. He knew she had her mouth open too, and the thought that they were currently exchanging breaths, practically breathing into each other’s mouths, was making heat rise in his body.

“And what,” he began, then paused to swallow, “do you want from me, Hannah?”

She blinked, her lashes brushing against his cheeks. He knew whatever she replied to his question would change everything, and maybe she realised that too, because she was taking her time to answer. Her hands, which had been locked around his neck until now, moved down to tangle their fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. He couldn’t stop a small shiver from running through him, making him unconsciously squeeze her hips as his brain gave him all sorts of ideas. It would be so easy to just angle his face a little, just lean in a tiny bit more, and cover her mouth with his. From what she was saying, he didn’t think she’d argue if he did. But he needed to hear her response first; needed to know if--

She drew for air, and that was the only warning he got before she brushed her lips against his. Her hands were already pressing down on the back of his neck, making his composure crack with zero resistance. He let her pull him in without really even thinking about it, sliding his lips over hers in a silent confirmation that yes, he wanted this. By Peach, did he want this! 

She moaned softly before parting her lips to let out a hot breath against him, and it gave him the courage he needed to press on with more confidence. He let his tongue run along her bottom lip, finding that she tasted just like he’d always imagined she would; sweet, hot, and so _ incredibly _soft--wait, was soft a taste? Fuck it, it was now. Hannah tasted soft, yet there was something that felt almost forbidden about kissing her like this. They’d been nearly this close before, either while tangled together and half asleep on a couch, or locked in place during some of their more intense flirting sessions, but this… This was a whole other thing. He felt almost naked now as their mouths moved against each other; and in a way, he was. He was offering something to her that no one else could have, opening himself up to her in a way he hadn’t been able to before, and it left him exposed. He wouldn’t have it any other way though, especially since Hannah was offering herself right back, eagerly letting him explore her mouth with his own and rewarding his every initiative with little hums or gasps or even moans.

His hands slid upwards almost automatically towards her shorts, fingertips boldly brushing against the skin underneath the hems, causing Hannah to gasp and arch her back to push even closer to him. Her own fingers moved in his hair, massaging his scalp while they kissed, and it felt so amazingly good that he couldn’t stop a growl from escaping his mouth. She moaned around his bottom lip, squeezing him between her legs even as she rolled her hips against him. And shit, if that didn’t do things to him.

Wanting to be able to touch her freely, he pushed off from the wall and carried her over to the kitchen table, and he had a fleeting thought that he hoped no one would come in through the front door right now, because they would see straight through the doorway. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he seated Hannah on the edge of the table and tugged her snugly against him, because now he could move his hands up to the sides of her head and angle her face up towards him. As he ran his tongue along her lips again, she let out a beautiful little gasp and parted them for him, meeting his tongue halfway as her own hands slipped down to unzip his jacket, then up again to start pushing it off his shoulders. It caught on his arms though, and the impatient whine she made was so adorable he couldn’t help smiling as he brought his hands behind his back to tug the sleeves off for her, being instantly rewarded for his effort when she gripped his biceps and squeezed him with her thighs. 

The jacket dropped to the floor, and he leant forward to support himself with his palms pressing against the table on either side of her hips, returning his full attention to the rhythm of Hannah’s mouth against his. It was like a tug of war, with both of them taking turns pushing and pulling. In one second, Arlo may think he had the upper hand and that he decided the pace, only to then be completely floored in the next second as Hannah did something game-changing. And now was one of those moments, because while he was fully content with continuing to explore her mouth, Hannah pulled back all of a sudden and held him back by his upper arms when he tried to follow. He opened his eyes just as she leant in and started trailing kisses along his jaw, and when her tongue flicked out against the soft skin right beneath his ear, he had to groan and squeeze his eyes closed again.

“Hannah,” he breathed, because there was nothing else he could possibly say that would properly convey what he was feeling. 

Her fingertips dug into his biceps as she nibbled on his earlobe, and just when he thought he was starting to regain some of his senses, she let out a long, needy moan right by his ear. It sent a strong shiver through his entire body, gripping him with the urge to pin her against the table and kiss her senseless, because holy shit, hearing Hannah moan like that was… It was like something straight out of his most daring fantasies. His hands moved on their own accord to grip her below the knees and tug her even closer, causing her to gasp into his ear.

“Arlo,” she panted, “I want, I want you.”

He exhaled sharply and dropped his head, feeling her hair tickle his cheek as he planted a kiss in the little bend where her neck met her shoulder. “You’ve got me, Hannah,” he whispered against her blushing skin, sighing softly when she shivered in response.

“No,” she said, hands moving to grip his shoulders, and he paused with his lips just above her skin, frozen in place as he waited for her to go on. “I mean, I only want this if _ you _want it. I don’t want you to just say yes because, because…”

She let out a frustrated groan, and even though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear on her voice that her insecurities were stopping her from ending the sentence. 

“Hannah,” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck with the side of his face, “oh, Hannah… I want it. I want _ you._” He placed a soft kiss on her pulse point, then let out a hot breath against the moist patch of skin. “I want you in whatever way you will let me have you. Hannah, I would do _ anything _you asked me to.”

He could hear her breath hitch. “Anything?”

“Yes,” he whispered before brushing his lips against her again. “Anything.”

He waited a few seconds to see if she would say anything else, but all he heard was their heavy breaths and the pulse of his heartbeat thudding through his body. His hands ran up along her bare thighs, over her shorts and around to her lower back, locking her in place against him as he started trailing soft, slow kisses along her jaw. He believed he could still read Hannah pretty accurately, and right now it was clear to him that she was carefully considering how to go on. Because she wouldn’t have asked him if she didn’t have anything in mind, would she? 

An open-mouthed kiss to her neck below the left ear drew a shuddering moan out of her, leading him to growl and nibble at her almost unconsciously.

“Then,” she panted, digging her fingertips so hard into his shoulders that he had to wince, “then will you tie me up?”

He choked down the laugh that wanted to bubble up, because yes, fuck yes, he wanted to tie Hannah up. He wanted to tie her to the bed like she’d hinted she wanted him to do so many times, and he wanted to see her squirm and pull on her bonds as he made his way down her body, caressing and kissing and biting and sucking, while she couldn’t even touch him back. If Hannah had succeeded in anything since her flirting started last Summer, it was in that she’d managed to firmly plant that idea in his head, because by Peach, it was so thoroughly imprinted in his brain he didn’t think he could get rid of it even if he tried. In fact, he _ had _tried, without much success.

He allowed himself to suck hard enough on her skin to leave a mark, moaning when she gasped and arched against him.

“Oh I’ll tie you up,” he growled. “Just give me a rope, and I’ll wrap you up nicely.”

“You’ll tie me to the bed frame?” she breathed.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed between kisses.

“Both my wrists and ankles?”

Arlo groaned against her neck, because _ fuck_. “Yes, all of them.”

He felt her let go of his shoulders, so he pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were dark and glossy, her lips moist and begging to be kissed as she panted hard into the space between them.

“Will you… gag me too?” 

He let out an incredulous breath, then raised his hands to her wrists--which were hanging hesitantly in the air between them--and gently wrapped his fingers around her, biting down a groan at the gasp it drew from her lips. Freaking Bikini Flippers, holding her wrists like this made him think of the time he’d shown her how to tie a Burlington bowline, and the way she’d looked at him when he’d tightened it around her wrist… The things that look had made him want to do to her.

Flexing his fingers around her, he raised his gaze to meet hers, probably mirroring the dark look in her eyes to a T. “Maybe I will,” he said in that low voice he knew she liked. “That depends on how loud you get.”

Her eyes widened a smidgen as her hands moved to clench the front of his t-shirt, but then she got something almost sly in her gaze. “I guess that depends on what you’d do to me.”

“I think we’ve already established that,” he replied, then leant in to whisper in her ear. “I’ll do anything you tell me to.”

He pulled back far enough that he could see her face, and his gaze caught on to her mouth as she pulled her bottom lip up between her teeth. He followed the movement, moistening his own lips without really thinking about it. If he lowered his head just a little, he’d be able to kiss that mouth of hers, and then _ he’d _ be the one with her lip between his teeth.

“Then I want you to gag me,” she purred quietly. “I’ve been wondering what your bandana would feel like between my teeth… What it’d taste like.”

Arlo swallowed against the sudden surge of arousal that shot through him. Well. All right. If there had been any traces of hesitation in his mind before, what with this being all new and him not wanting to take things too far without first sitting down to talk about them, the look she gave him practically blew those reservations straight out the window. He’d known for a long time that she was into the idea of rope play, and he remembered her telling him that she’d tried something similar with handcuffs before, so she’d have a pretty good idea of what she was getting into. And besides, this was Hannah he was dealing with. Hannah, who had just a moment ago told him he was ‘safety’ to her. Who felt that everything would be all right as long as he was by her side. If that wasn’t trust, he didn’t know what was. And trust was the key factor here.

But still...

His grip hardened around her wrists. “Oh I’d love to help you find out,” he murmured, holding her gaze. “But you’d be completely at my mercy then. Is that what you want, Hannah? To entrust me with all that power over you?”

He kept a careful watch of her face to make sure he couldn’t detect any kind of hesitation, and so he saw her pupils widen as her cheeks darkened at his question, her breath growing more and more ragged. Her fingers clenched his t-shirt harder in their grasp.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I really, _ really _do.”

He bit down a groan. Her mouth was so tantalisingly close, and he wanted so badly to just lower his head and catch it with his, but he _ needed _to be sure first.

“You really trust me that much?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

She nodded sharply. The blush on her face was really something at this point, and he realised how much he’d missed to fluster her like this. It had always been easy, but now, with an entire new arsenal of methods he could use, the possibilities really were endless. Still holding her wrists firmly in his grip, he leant in towards her ear again.

“Say it,” he whispered.

“I really trust you, Arlo,” she breathed. “More than anyone else. I’d entrust my life to you.”

He exhaled a hot puff of air against her temple, his heart fluttering in his chest. “And you want me to tie you to your bed? To be a little rough with you?”

Hannah let out a soft breath, which turned into a whine as he lowered his head to kiss her jaw. “Yes. Yes, I want you to tie me up and…” She drew for air, and he could feel her legs clenching around him. “And fuck me.”

Now it was his time to gasp. He must have clenched her wrists a bit too hard, because Hannah whined in what sounded like pain, so he quickly relaxed his grip and pulled back so he could see her face. Her lip was tucked between her teeth again, her cheeks a glaring red, and her eyes had turned cloudy with desire. He had to exhale sharply, because fuck, she looked good like this, and the things she’d just said…

He raised her hands towards him and held her gaze as he flexed his fingers around her wrists. “You make that sound so tempting, I might just take you up on it,” he growled before letting his lips brush against her knuckles. “But that being said, I want you to know you can change your mind at any point. Ok?”

“Ok,” she breathed, dark eyes blinking up at him from beneath her lashes.

He let go of her wrists to reach up and start untying his bandana, watching her widen her eyes as he did. He’d never told her the story behind this particular piece of cloth, but she’d definitely noticed his reservations about letting other people touch or mess with it, so seeing him untie it and remove it from his neck was probably a surprise to her. But if there was anyone he’d gladly share his bandana with, it was Hannah. Smiling at how stunned she looked, he folded it into a long flat strip, brought it down to her wrists, wrapped it around twice and pulled it tight before making a simple knot. 

“Too tight?” he asked. 

She blinked, then shook her head. “It’s fine,” she breathed.

“Good.” He tied another knot over the first to secure it, then let go of her to rest his hands against the table. After taking a moment to study her face--which was still just as flustered--he let one corner of his mouth quirk up in another smirk. “Now lie down on your back for me, will you, Hot Stuff?”

Hannah drew in a shaky breath, staring up at him in what he could only describe as awe, and while part of him wanted to wince at seeing her so shocked to have him call her that again, another part loved the fact that it still had such a direct effect on her. It did open up for some interesting uses for it, that’s for sure.

But this time, this first time, she seemed too frozen in shock to comply. With an amused huff, he gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back until she was lying down, then leant in over her and supported himself on his right elbow as his left hand pushed her wrists into the table above her head. He lowered his head to kiss her exposed collar bone, opening his mouth wide and sucking hard enough to make her gasp and arch her back beneath him. She struggled against his hand around her wrists, and so he looked up again to check on her.

She met his gaze as she panted, her chest heaving distractingly in her tight tank top. He could have just looked at her forever--the whole breathless, hot and flustered thing really was a lovely colour on her--but then she locked her legs around his hips, her thighs squeezing him wonderfully.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed as she angled her face away, revealing her neck to him, and yes please, he’d _ gladly _accept that invitation, so he dropped his head again and started trailing kisses from her collar bone up to her neck. 

He stopped right beneath the jaw bone, swirling his tongue around before sucking her skin into his mouth again, and she rewarded him with a needy whimper that made him push on even more decisively as he made his way up towards her ear. Her wrists were still squirming and struggling in his grip, but this time, he just locked his fingers more securely around them and pushed them harder into the table. He closed his teeth around her skin in a half bite for good measure, at which she turned her head so he couldn’t reach her neck anymore, her eyes glossy and mischievous. He cursed under his breath as he shifted above her so he could hold himself up with the help of the hand around her wrists, then moved his other hand to her ponytail, wrapping it around his fingers and tugging it back and to the side so her neck became available to him again. Hannah whined needily as he lowered his head to kiss her again, now moving down across her shoulder and towards the neckline of her tank top.

“Arlo,” she moaned, and damn, he could really get used to hearing his name said like that. She squirmed beneath him, arching her back so that her hips pushed against him. “Carry me to bed?”

“Gladly,” he growled.

He tapped her side with his free hand, and when she arched up again, he slipped it in beneath her. Then he looped her arms over his head and pulled her up into sitting position. He was just about to hoist her up against him when a sound was heard from the other room--a sound he _ really _didn’t want to hear right now.

Hannah must have heard it too, because she immediately froze against his chest, her breath hitching in her throat.

The front door was opening, and the two of them were standing right in the spotlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand we're back! To make up for this chapter's delay, we'll post the next four chapters on consecutive days. The final posting schedule will hence be as follows:
> 
> Control, Part 2 - Feb 13th  
Control, Part 3 - Feb 14th  
Control, Part 4 - Feb 15th  
Control, Part 5 - Feb 16th  
Alongside You (final chapter) - Feb 19th
> 
> See you guys tomorrow! ^_~  
/Ladroitte


	32. Control, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo and Hannah have a fun *talk*...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Being Restrained / Power Play / Pie
> 
> Continues straight after the last chapter ends.

Hannah had barely even registered the new sound when Arlo suddenly pulled away, bending his neck to get out of her arms as he took a step back. In one smooth movement, he leant down to pick up his jacket from the floor, threw it on one of the chairs and ran a hand through his hair before turning to face the kitchen doorway. She followed his gaze and saw Emily and Oaks come in through the front door. _ Shit. Shit shit shit! _

“Everything ok out there?” Arlo called as Hannah jumped down from the table, and his right hand moved behind his back, discreetly gesturing for her to come closer, but what was he… oh. The bandana around her wrists. Right.

“Oh, it’s _ really _windy!” Emily laughed happily. “But Oaks is so grounded, it’s much easier to walk if I hold on to him! I don’t know how he does it.”

“Eh, I’m just used to being outside in all kinds of weather. If you want stable though, you should try walking with Abu during a storm sometime!”

Hannah walked up behind Arlo’s back and reached up to brush her fingers against his hand and guide him up to her wrists, where he started untying the bandana. She felt her breath stutter as she watched his fingers nimbly work at the knot; she really didn’t want to have to end this here, and _ damn _if him doing that one handed wasn’t giving her ideas of what else he could do.

“Let’s hope we don’t get any more storms as bad as this one for a while, yeah?” Arlo said calmly as he pulled the bandana away from Hannah’s wrists and tucked it in his back pocket. 

“I sure do,” Emily agreed. “Well, the horses are fine at least. And speaking of, are you ok Hannah?”

Hannah immediately stepped to the side, smiling innocently at Emily and Oaks. “Yep! Super good!”

Oaks raised his eyebrows at her as he sniffed the air. “And the pie? Did you remember to take out the pie?”

She blinked at him, waiting while her brain rebooted. The… the pie…? The pie!

“Oh!” she exclaimed, half running and half stumbling towards the oven and jerking it open. A hot cloud of steam puffed out, causing her to cough and blink away tears as she waved her hand in front of her face. When the worst of the steam had thinned out, she peered in at the pie, relief flooding her when she saw that it wasn’t burnt. Well, not _ too _burnt at least.

Suddenly Arlo was by her side, reaching over to turn off the heat before handing her the oven mittens, which she received gratefully while trying not to blush. She brought out the pie and placed it on her countertop before turning to the others again.

“Ta-daa! One perfect, most certainly not burnt, pumpkin pie!”

While Emily smiled gently, Oaks looked a whole lot skeptical. He didn’t say anything, but Hannah suspected he was fighting himself not to scold her.

“Pumpkin pie, huh,” Arlo said next to her. “Say Emily, isn’t that the sort of pie that Sophie is always making for everyone else?”

“Yeah! Granny makes the best pumpkin pie in the Alliance! I love pumpkin pie so much, so she’s had a lot of practice!”

Hannah looked up at Arlo as he nudged her with his arm. He quirked an eyebrow at her, then glanced towards the others. Ah. The man was a _ genius_.

“Hey Emily,” she started as she opened one of the drawers to bring out some tin foil. “Why don’t you and Oaks take this over to Sophie and taste test it with a glass of milk? I have another one I haven’t baked yet, so I’ll have plenty left for myself.”

“Oh! Are you sure? You don’t want to come with us? You can come too, Arlo!”

Hannah glanced up at him for help, at which he surprised her by smiling and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’d love to, but Hannah and I already have plans, I’m afraid.”

Feeling blood rush to her cheeks as she saw the baffled looks on her friends’ faces, since they both knew she _ hadn’t _ had plans with him before they’d left to check on the horses, Hannah hurried to add, “We have a lot to talk about! Y’know, just… just talk. About… stuff!”

Arlo’s fingers squeezed her shoulder, probably just to tease her, but she chose to ignore it and focused on wrapping the tin foil over the pie before handing it over to Oaks, who received it gingerly, using his fur sleeves to hold it safely without getting burned.

“Since you’re the stable one,” she said, trying for cheerful even though she wished she could just be sucked into the floor and disappear. 

Oaks and Emily looked at each other, and then Oaks shrugged. “Ok, let’s go then. Thank you, Hannah.”

“Don’t worry about it! Just be careful out there, ok?”

Emily sidled up closer to Oaks, hooking an arm around his with a knowing smile and what might have been an eye flicker towards Hannah’s neck. “We will! Have fun, you two!”

Hannah froze at the playful edge in Emily’s voice, because she _ clearly _ suspected something more was about to happen than just simply ‘talking’. Had she seen the position they’d been in before Arlo pulled away? Had Hannah been too slow in hiding her bound wrists? She tried to send Emily a silent question with her eyes, but her friend had already turned around and pulled Oaks out of the kitchen, and was that a _ giggle? _

That thought was blown away however when Arlo pulled Hannah closer to his side. She looked up at him and was met by a smirk. “Oh, we will,” he said quietly enough that only she should be able to hear, and her stupid body betrayed her by shivering in his grip. His smirk widened. “We have a lot of fun _ talking _to do.”

She groaned. He’d never let her forget that, would he?

The second the front door closed, his arm pulled back from her shoulder as he crouched down to grab her by the hips, making her yelp when he then hoisted her up over his shoulder, one hand resting on her butt while the other held her in place by her back. She bit down on her lip, feeling her cheeks grow hotter as he carried her out of the kitchen, through the living room and straight into her bedroom. She half expected him to throw her on the bed, but he let her down gently on her back before pulling back to stand up, one knee resting against the mattress as he looked around the room.

“Now where do you keep all your lovely ropes, Hot Stuff?”

She propped herself up on her elbows, about to point to the foot of the bed, but then stopped herself. Because no, the rope she’d used to practice tying herself up with wasn’t there anymore. She’d kept it there far into Winter, maybe in the faint hope that things would turn around and that Arlo could still bounce back to her, but then she’d ended up removing it when she forced herself to accept that he wouldn’t. 

Arlo watched her deflate, and raised a silent eyebrow in question.

“They’re… in the back of the wardrobe,” she admitted. “In a pink metal box, covered with shoes.”

If he wanted to ask why she’d hidden them away, he kept it to himself as he pushed off from the bed and walked up to the wardrobe. Maybe he understood it from the look on her face.

He opened the doors, leant in to rummage around among her shoes, then pulled out the metal box she’d referred to, removing the lid to peer inside. Hannah watched a satisfied smirk tug the corners of his mouth upwards as he absent-mindedly closed the wardrobe and walked back up to the bed, placing the box on the bedside table before pulling up the very hemp rope she’d used to have tied to her bed.

“Oh, I remember this,” he said, running it through his hands with a new gleam in his eyes. “It’s the one I picked for your first lesson, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, and the look he gave her made her wonder if he could read on her face that she’d already used that rope several times over while thinking about him. It was a look she hadn’t really seen on him before; a look she could only describe as _ hungry. _

He leant in over her, catching himself with one hand beside her shoulder and a knee weighing down the mattress on the free side. He came so unexpectedly close she had to suck in a breath at the way her body immediately reacted to his vicinity, heat streaming out from her core in pleasant waves. His gaze darted down to her lips as she licked them, then back up to her eyes, and his own lips twitched into a full smirk this time. 

“I think it’s only fitting we use it for your second lesson too,” he said in his low, husky voice, nuzzling his nose against the side of her face. She tried to catch his mouth with hers, but the bastard pulled away instantly, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded gently. “First things first.”

She whined impatiently as he pulled away, but her next breath hitched in her throat when he then grabbed her wrists and slammed them into the pillow on either side of her head. He shifted to move one of his knees between her legs, effectively locking her in place beneath him, and all she could do was stare up at him and swallow in anticipation. 

“This time around,” he purred, “I think I’ll tie your wrists together. They really did look quite lovely with my bandana wrapped around them, but I’ll need _ that _for your mouth, now won’t I?”

The only sound she could get out was an impatient groan, but he didn’t seem to expect anything more coherent than that. He just kept smirking as he loosened his grip slightly to bring her wrists together above her head before nimbly wrapping the rope around the both of them, then tying the other end to the metal bars of the bed. Hannah bit down a moan at how the rough texture of the hemp felt around her. She’d practiced with this rope, sure, but that was a long time ago now, and it was an entirely different experience to have Arlo be the one to tie her up.

When he’d finished, he stood back--still with one knee between her legs--to inspect his work. He slid his bandana out of his back pocket and ran it through his fingers, letting his gaze run the entire length of her body, and she let her legs fall open slightly without really thinking about it as he reached that point. She started to feel smug at the way he gulped and licked his lips, until he shifted his dark eyes back to hers, and suddenly she was the one gulping.

“Now be clear. What is it you want from me?” he asked, cool and calm and in complete control, and even though he was wearing the stone faced expression she’d learnt to hate, she found it worked _ just fine _in these circumstances.

“I-I told you before,” she breathed.

“You gave me a rough sketch,” he said. “But I need specifics. I’m not doing anything to you today unless you tell me exactly what you want.” 

She leant her head back and let out a frustrated moan. “Whyyy?”

“Because, Hannah,” he said silkily, impatiently twisting the bandana between his fingers, “I’d usually have preferred to talk things through first and make sure we’re on the same page, but I’m willing to make an exception for you… as long as you tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

She must have looked as confused as she felt, because he shook his head, lips barely twitching as something behind his eyes flared.

“You said you wanted me to tie you to the bed, and you're conveniently tied up now. You wanted me to tie your ankles down too, so I'll tie them once we’ve cleared up a… few more details. And you wanted to feel my bandana between your teeth? You wanted to know what it tastes like?” He leant in, lowering his voice to a murmur heavy with desire. “I’ll be _ happy _ to help you with that.” 

She gasped, dragging her left leg up towards her and tugging at her bonds, noting with pleasure how Arlo clenched his jaw as he watched her squirm.

“We will do everything you asked for earlier,” he continued, still in the low murmur that made delicious things happen in her lower abdomen, “and are going _ exactly _ as far as you tell me now, but not an inch further. So I'll ask again: what is it you **want**?”

Hannah stared up into his intense face, eyes widening as the true meaning of his words sank in. Images flashed through her mind; images she’d never before allowed herself to believe in, but that now sparked a new excitement within her. She wanted to tell him in detail about all the ways she’d dreamt of him touching her ever since the beginning of their friendship; she wanted to let him know just how crazy he could make her with a single, innocent touch; she wanted to yell at him to shut up, tear off her clothes and make her scream his name; but the words refused to come out, and instead, she heard herself utter a pathetic, “You. I want you.”

“Not good enough,” he said, holding the bandana out over her stomach and letting the smooth material trail across the sliver of exposed skin between her shorts and her tank top. “I need you to be more specific than just ‘me’.”

“I… I want you to kiss me. And touch me.”

He snorted, amused, then let his hand fall to rest on her stomach as he leant over her again, the bandana slipping from his fingers to pool at her side, and gently brushed his lips against her cheek.

“There. I’ve kissed you, and I’m touching you. What else?”

She groaned and twisted her head towards him, hoping to capture his lips, but he pulled back, smirking widely.

“Words, Hannah. Use them.”

“For fuck’s sake Arlo, would you just kiss me properly alrea--”

He covered her mouth with his, kissing her firmly and letting out a low sound of contentment as she returned the kiss almost fervently. She squirmed against the mattress, legs rubbing together to try and scratch the itch that had started to form, only for the hand that had stayed resting on her stomach to slide down to her hip and grip it, pinning it down as he shifted to half hover above her. She felt the pillow next to her head dip and then his thumb was making circles on the skin of her hip bone and he was sucking her lower lip and she couldn’t stop, didn’t _ want to _ stop the moan escaping her.

He pulled back slightly, moving his mouth to her jaw. “What more do you want?” he murmured between kisses.

She leant her head back and gasped softly. “Touch me,” she breathed, then when he stopped kissing her to let out a sigh against her skin, she hurried to add, “I, I mean, touch me slowly. My side, my stomach, my arms, my neck. Slowly and gently.”

“Better,” he murmured.

He touched his lips against hers, exhaling a hot breath as the hand on her hip left its place and started moving slowly, causing Hannah to gasp and twitch as his fingers passed lightly over her groin. He paused his movement, then spread his fingers across her skin, earning the same little twitch a second time. This time, when she drew for air, he responded by kissing her again, fingers travelling up along her side and pushing the fabric up with his thumb as his teeth nibbled at her lower lip. She squirmed beneath him, another inadvertent moan slipping out between her lips and into Arlo’s mouth when he dragged his fingertips up across her stomach, skirting around her breasts until he reached her shoulder, where he paused to draw invisible circles on her skin before moving on up along her arm. 

By Peach, the feel of him touching her, his cool calloused fingers gently caressing her skin quickly followed by the rough texture and warmth of his glove, was worlds better than what she remembered from that one time she’d used them on herself. After she’d put the ropes away, she’d never _ dreamed _she’d get to feel his gloves gliding over her skin, smoothing and rubbing and sparking so many deep primal feelings ever again, so this now, this was--

She tugged at the rope, letting out a tiny whimper and breaking away from the kiss.

She could feel Arlo tense his muscles, his eyes springing open in alarm before scanning her face. Her cheeks flared. 

“Can you… Can you, um, kiss me in other places too...?”

His expression softened somewhat. Amusement gleaming in his eyes, he leant in and kissed her nose. 

“Like this?” he asked with a smile.

She kicked up her leg into his side, writhing in frustration when his hand left her arm to push her hip into the bed again. “You giant freaking tease,” she complained. “Have I ever told you how obnoxious and annoyi--”

His fingers dug into her hip as he shut her up with his mouth again, forcing a gasp out of her when he ran his tongue across her lip, testing the waters. She parted her lips to welcome him inside, heart galloping in her chest. His tongue met hers, and the way they so effortlessly danced with each other even from the first touch made it feel like they’d done this thousands of times before; like they had practiced exactly how to breathe together and when to give up control to the other before taking it back again a moment later. The kiss went from soft and moist, quickly crossing over into hot and breathy, and Arlo’s hand was alternating between ghosting over her stomach and ribs and barely brushing the edge of her bra, and clutching at her waist and squeezing her hip bone. His fingers were almost twitching in their eagerness to explore new territory, but for some reason he wasn’t letting himself.

Defying the hand holding her down, she arched her back as much as she could and pushed herself up against his chest, hoping that he would take the hint and touch her where she desperately wanted him to, but he just groaned quietly before pulling away from her lips to plant a trail of kisses down across her cheek and along her jaw, drawing ragged breaths out of her.

“Touch me,” she pleaded.

His mouth didn’t stop exploring her jaw even as he murmured, “Where?”

She threw her head back, inviting him to kiss her neck, which he immediately did.

“Where, Hannah?” he repeated, voice husky.

“Everywhere…”

“No,” he breathed, “you’ll have to be _ much _more specific than that.”

“Arlo,” she whined, “please--”

He stopped kissing her, panting softly against her now moist neck. “Hannah,” he said in his stern Captain’s voice, “I’ve already told you how this works. Tell me where to touch you, or I won’t.”

“Touch my fucking boobs!”

He nibbled at her earlobe. “Fucking finally.”

The pillow dipped again as he pushed himself up, climbed fully onto the bed and knelt over her thighs, hooking his ankles around her legs to keep them still. His hands grabbed the lower edge of her tank top roughly, pushing the fabric up along her torso. She arched her back to allow him to push it all the way above her chest, revealing the minimalistic black bra she was now incredibly glad she had picked out that morning instead of one of the pink, llama-patterned ones she owned way too many of.

Letting his hands glide down along her sides, he leant in and planted a soft, hot kiss at the curve of her left breast. Hannah let out a soft gasp, writhing as his hands slowly climbed back up, grabbing the tops of her bra cups and jerking them down.

“Kiss them,” she ordered breathlessly.

Arlo immediately started trailing his kisses downwards along the curve, alternating between nibbling her already blushing skin with his teeth and teasing her with his tongue. His thumbs stroked little circles into the skin right around her nipples, the edge of the thumb cuff catching against her on every stroke and making her go absolutely insane with yearning. She moaned in frustration, kicking with her legs when he continued taking his sweet time with his mouth, skirting just around her breasts as his thumbs kept teasing her.

“Please,” she panted. “Arlo, plea—ahh!”

She almost yelled out when he finally decided to have mercy on her and flicked his tongue over her nipple, then sank his mouth over it and started sucking. Hannah whimpered as a pleasant warmth shot through her body, spreading from her chest and outwards, and now that Arlo’s hands were occupied, she could thrash about with her legs freely as he kissed her--or at least she thought so, until his right hand left her bra to firmly push her hip down.

“Stay still,” he growled before kissing his way over to her other breast, letting his thumb take over where he left.

His tongue swirled around her nipple before he took it in his mouth, kissing it slowly and sloppily, and Hannah moaned, forgetting for a moment that she was tied to the bed frame as she instinctively tried to grab his head.

Arlo pulled back a little and looked up at her, smirking when he saw her flustered face. But to her great exasperation, he abandoned her breasts and straightened, then leant further up towards the head of the bed, his fingers dancing around the rope.

“Can you feel this?” he asked, making little circles with his fingertips against her palms.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“You tell me if your fingers start tingling, all right?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

Arlo returned to his position sitting on her hips with his legs bracketing her sides, and moved his gaze hungrily down along her body, tilting his head to the side as a smirk tugged at his lips. Hannah felt heat flare in her face and between her legs almost simultaneously. She cast down her eyes, feeling suddenly self-conscious. 

“Has anyone ever told you how good you look like this; completely ruffled, tied to a bed and struggling to catch your breath?” Arlo asked in an amused voice, then paused and gave her a frown. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Despite her embarrassment, Hannah chuckled. No, no one had told her that before, but she wouldn’t have minded teasing Arlo a bit about it if he hadn’t so clearly shown he preferred not to know. She briefly wondered whether that meant he was the jealous type, but then he made her forget all about that as his hands gripped her hips and he leant in towards her, eyes dark and filled with want.

“Now what do you want from me, Hannah?” he murmured. “I’ve kissed you, I’ve touched you, all like you asked... Have you had enough?”

She shook her head decisively, then fixed him with her gaze. “Remove my top and bra.”

Arlo’s eyes gleamed. “You’re getting the hang of this.” He reached down to her sides. “Arch your back for me, will you, Hot Stuff?”

She gasped again, not yet used to how her old nickname sounded when it left his mouth in a low half-pur like that. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it. It made her insides burn, and judging by how he looked at her, he knew _ exactly _what it did to her. She’d have to remember to get back at him for that somehow.

He tapped her sides with his fingertips, and she remembered herself, arching her back and watching curiously as he reached around to get to her bra clasp. To her amusement, he struggled with it for a moment, getting an impatient look in his eyes, then when he finally managed to unclasp it, he looked so satisfied she had to bite down a chuckle. 

Supporting her back with his right hand, he lifted her slightly to be able to push her top and bra up over her shoulders, then let go of her to pull it the rest of the way over her head, leaving it bunched up around her hands. When he was done, he leant in and took her breasts in his hands again, his bangs tickling her collar bones as his mouth latched on to her left nipple. Hannah groaned in pleasure, closing her eyes to properly relish the feeling of Arlo’s lips around one of her most sensitive spots.

She opened her eyes again when his mouth left her, and was met by his intense gaze. Her own gaze slipped down to his chest, and without even thinking, she moistened her lips.

“What about your t-shirt?” she asked carefully, because she wasn’t sure if that was included in the ‘anything you want’ deal.

The corners of his lips twitched, but he quickly regained his cool expression. “What about it?”

“Can you… take it off?”

“Well,” he said, straightening, “I suppose I _ can_.”

Yet he stayed perfectly still, smirking slightly when she just kept staring at him. Then it hit her. Oh, this infuriating man… Hannah took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Arlo,” she said between gritted teeth. “Take. Your. Fucking. T-shirt. Off.”

He cracked a smile, then crossed his arms in front of his torso and grabbed the lower edge of his t-shirt. He slowly started pulling it upwards, watching with amusement as her gaze immediately snapped down to the little rectangle of skin showing above his waistband and devouring every little new centimetre he revealed. 

Arlo wasn’t the type to walk around town and flaunt his muscles. He didn’t seem to need that kind of attention--except maybe from her. In fact, now that she had a better idea of what he’d been thinking last Summer, she highly suspected the main reason he’d agreed to the push up contest against Paulie had been so he could show off how strong he was to _ her. _ He probably still wouldn’t have done it if all the others hadn’t joined in as well, but the way he’d acted around her that day now made her think it had been mostly for her sake. Not that she minded if that was the case, because oh boy, did she like to look at Arlo. 

Since he insisted on wearing his jacket everywhere he went, Hannah rarely had a chance to get a good look at his muscles. She knew he wasn’t the kind of buff that Paulie liked to brag about being, but whenever he would remove the jacket, his toned arms teased a body slowly tightened and hardened by his work as a Civil Corps officer, and now, as more and more of his naked torso was revealed to her, she delighted in seeing the discreet outline of a six-pack adorning his stomach; an outline she’d only ever felt a brief hint of with her hands before.

She was less delighted when she noticed the abundance of scars and scratches--both old and new--covering his pale skin. None of the new ones seemed to have been deep, but still. Just knowing that _ she _had probably been the reason for them…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as her gaze flickered back up to meet his, but he just gave her a gentle smile, sharply contrasting the cheeky smirk he’d worn just before.

“I’m fine,” he assured her as he pulled the t-shirt fully over his head and dropped it to the floor. He leant in slowly, supporting himself on his palms on either side of her as he hovered above her. “And even if I’d been wounded worse than this, it would have been worth it, because I got you out alive. Don’t fret over it, ok?”

She swallowed as he placed a soft kiss below her ear. “Ok,” she said quietly. This wasn’t the time to talk about that anyway; they’d have plenty of opportunities to go through it in the future if needed. 

Her gaze was drawn to his upper arms, which flexed beautifully as he lowered himself further down. The old, criss-crossing scars on his arms really highlighted his muscles in a way she hadn’t ever noticed before; maybe because she’d tried not to stare while they were still only friends. But now that they’d crossed _ that _ line… Surely he wouldn’t mind if she ogled him a little? Just a bit. And maybe, _ maybe _he’d even be ok with her tou--

Her wrists were jerked to a stop, and she swore as she once again remembered she couldn’t touch him. Arlo chuckled against her neck, shifting slightly in a way that made his muscles flex again, and for fuck’s sake, if she couldn’t touch him, then… Then maybe she could at least get a repeat of last Summer? In private, for her eyes only?

“Could you… do you think you could…” She trailed off with a groan.

He pushed himself up above her. “Think I could what?”

She glanced up at his face and saw him looking back at her patiently, which soothed her nerves a bit. “Do you think... you could do a push up? I mean... Above me.” 

Immediately after having said the words, she felt her whole body flare with hot embarrassment. Arlo chuckled above her.

“Oh but that’s no fair,” he said. “You can’t have a push up competition with only one participant.” But then he must have seen the flustered look on her face, and he thankfully smiled to ease her mind. “Yes, I can.” 

He shifted between her legs to extend his legs all the way to the end of the bed. He then slowly lowered himself down over her until he was almost touching her, his head suspended right above hers, and then pushed himself up again. Hannah gulped, watching in awe as his arm muscles flexed in that beautiful way again. Peaches, this was even better than she remembered. 

“Do fifteen more,” she ordered him, more confident in herself now that he’d done it once.

He did it faster this time, barely even breaking a sweat or showing any signs of physical exertion as he did the fifteen push ups. Every time he moved, she could feel his legs brushing against the naked insides of her thighs, and she didn’t even try to hold in the soft gasps that came rolling out between her lips each time this happened, despite the fact that she saw how pleased it made him look. She felt like she was dreaming.

“Thank you,” she whispered when he had come to a stop.

The smirk returned full force to his lips. “You’re welcome, Hot Stuff.”

Instead of reverting back to his position over her hips, he let his legs down between hers again, watching her face closely as his jeans rubbed against her thighs, which were almost completely naked now that her shorts had ridden up after all the squirming she’d done. She let out a soft gasp which transformed into a moan when he shifted his weight to move his left hand down to her hip, running it up along the outside of her thigh and up to her knee, tugging it up and holding it steady beside him and leaving her even more exposed. But it was a good kind of exposed, the kind of exposed that made her breaths come in ragged bursts, and so she raised her other leg on her own volition, then wrapped both legs around his hips, locking her ankles together above him.

His pupils widened for a moment second before finding their focus again. Lowering his head, he dragged his lips across her chest, stopping by her collar bone, where he parted his lips to kiss her softly, swirling his tongue around the bone. Hannah arched her back, gasping when she felt a hardness pushing into the sensitive parts between her legs. Arlo groaned against her skin, moving on from slow kissing to intense, almost painful sucking. If she’d been riled up before, that had been nothing compared to how aroused it made her to know Arlo was so into this.

“Arlo,” she breathed, feeling feverish all of a sudden. 

He hummed in response, carefully closing his teeth around her skin and sucking harder before pulling away. She moaned in half pain, half pleasure, unlocking her ankles to rub her thighs against his hips instead. Apparently seeing the opening, Arlo used the opportunity to push himself up so he was sitting on his knees between her legs, then grabbed on to her thighs, running his fingertips down along them as his gaze snapped to her eyes. 

“I believe you wanted me to tie up your ankles,” he mused, circling her ankle and foot arch with one finger before grasping her foot and lifting it up so he could kiss the spot instead. “Which gives me the perfect excuse to try out some of the new ropes I saw.”

Heat blossomed in her cheeks, prompting him to raise an amused eyebrow at her. Yes, fine, she’d gotten herself some more ropes last Autumn. Mostly more in hemp, though in various new colours. She’d tried some other materials, but the mere knowledge that _ Arlo _had chosen a hemp one to tie her up with that one time had made her experience with other kinds pale in comparison. With the rope he’d chosen for her, she could close her eyes and imagine that he was there with her. 

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt as he kissed just above her ankle, and his other hand started to stroke long slow movements down her calf and thigh. He pushed against the edge of her shorts before starting back up again in lazy swirls, hints of scratches from his nails leaving tingling trails in their wake. She stared up at him, watching as he turned his satisfied smirk away from her to instead peer into the box on the bedside table.

“Now, which colour should I choose? The bright pink one is interesting, as is the blue one… But then you do look good in all colours, don’t you.”

Hannah swallowed, which drew his gaze to her throat like a magnet. 

“Hm,” he said while letting that very gaze travel downwards along her body. “Let’s go for red, to match that lovely blush of yours.”

Placing one last lingering kiss on her ankle, he got off the bed and pulled out her new red hemp rope. He turned to her and held his hands up as he ran his fingers along the rope, watching her with a thoughtful look on his face. She took the opportunity to arch her back and throw her head back to expose as much sensitive skin as possible and give him a good look at what she had to offer, noticing with pleasure how his pupils dilated.

”Now, Hannah… There are two ways we can do this.”

Changing his grip on the rope to hold it in the middle with one single hand, he knelt with one leg on the bed, then lowered his hand above her to allow the ends of the rope to ghost across her stomach. She twitched and let out a small gasp.

”Either I use this around your ankles, securing the rope around the middle support at the end of your bed…” The rough material dragged across her nipples, causing her to utter a breathy moan as she squirmed on the bed, pleasant tingles running through her body. ”… or I cut the rope in half and tie one ankle to each bedpost.”

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he let the ends of the rope caress their way down across her stomach, pausing by her hip to pull another gasp from her with a careful swirl before teasing the skin right by the edge of her underwear. Hannah’s breath caught in her throat.

“I don’t know about you,” he purred, “but I find the idea of spreading your legs terribly alluring.”

The rope brushed against the insides of her thighs, forcing a moan out of her as she shuddered. Beside her, Arlo’s breathing turned ragged in a second as he watched her react to the touch.

“Hannah,” he said, voice nearly breaking. “_Choose._”

“Bedposts,” she whimpered. “Tie me to the bedposts!”

The second she uttered the first word, Arlo pulled back and got off the bed. He crossed to her desk with long, quick strides and rummaged around in her piles of random little things.

“Do you happen to have a knife or cutting tool around?”

She gulped. “Actually… there’s one in the box?” she said weakly; then when he turned to face her, she added, “Safety first.”

His lips pulled into a grin. “Good girl,” he said in his deliciously low voice, causing her breath to catch.

He returned to the bed, leaning in to carefully dig around in the box before victoriously holding up the multi-function knife she kept in the bottom and flicking out the sharp blade. His grin widened, and her stomach lurched, because that grin, and the way that he looked at her, made her think of a natural predator. If she hadn’t trusted him so completely, she might have been scared for her life--now it was just incredibly _ hot _for some reason.

As she watched, Arlo ran his fingers along the red rope to determine where the middle was, then raised the knife and started carving. The fibers popped one after another until there was only one left, whereby he flicked the knife closed again and tossed it into the box with a metallic clang. Grabbing on to the rope on both sides of the cut, he made a hard tug that broke the last fiber and separated the rope in two parts.

“Now then,” he purred, eyes gleaming. “Let’s get you tied up, Hot Stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Control, Part 3 - Feb 14th  
Control, Part 4 - Feb 15th  
Control, Part 5 - Feb 16th  
Alongside You (final chapter) - Feb 19th


	33. Control, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is sweet… and temporary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Being Restrained / Oral / Masturbation / Gagging
> 
> Continues straight after the last chapter ends.

Hannah watched Arlo walk to the foot of the bed, throwing one of the ropes next to her feet before reaching down to grab one of her ankles and holding it up, preparing to wrap the first length of rope around it.

“Wait,” she sputtered out, causing him to come to a halt, a crease appearing on his forehead. She lifted her hips slightly, seeing how his gaze was immediately drawn to the movement. “Shouldn’t you remove my shorts first?”

He slowly dragged his gaze back up to her face, taking his time to answer. “I don’t know,” he said then. “Should I?”

She grimaced. “Yes. You should.”

Dropping her ankle and the rope to the mattress, he got back onto the bed and knelt between her legs again, then leant forward to run his curved fingertips down across her stomach. He bent his neck and started a hot trail of kisses in the wake of his hands, as they reached the waistband of her shorts and grabbed hold of the edges.

“I should what?” he murmured softly between kisses.

“Take my shorts off,” she breathed.

His fingertips fluttered over to unbutton her shorts, then dipped in beneath the waistband as he slowly started pulling them down. Hannah drew in a ragged breath, revelling in the intimacy of his lips and tongue along the elastics of her underwear, which he took care to leave in place. 

“I would love to,” he murmured, pausing just as his fingertips came into contact with her thighs, “but you haven’t given me permission to touch your legs yet, have you?”

She tried kicking up with her legs, but he quickly shifted his weight to hold them down, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“You already did,” she reminded him impatiently.

“Yes… That was a temporary lapse in judgment. Won’t happen again.”

“Fuck, you’re so annoying,” she groaned. 

“Hannah...” he warned, and she thought she could hear the same impatience in his voice as in her own.

“Touch my freaking legs, Arlo--thighs, calves, ankles; the whole deal.”

“Touch only?” he asked, placing another kiss right above her underwear, then closing his teeth around the elastics and pulling up slightly before letting it go to quietly smack against her skin. 

"And kiss," she panted, rolling her head back on the pillow and shifting her hips up to push against him. "Kiss, suck, bite, lick; heck, _ breathe on me_. Anything and everything, please, just do it _ now_!"

Arlo groaned and dug his fingertips so deeply into her thighs that she couldn’t help whimpering in pain. “Fuck, Hannah… Ok, you know what, I was going to take this slow, but I need these off now.” 

Shifting his grip on the waistband, he sat up and tugged her shorts down along her legs, pushing her calves up to rest them against his shoulders before pulling the piece of clothing the rest of the way towards her feet and off completely. Hannah’s insides fluttered as he threw the shorts to the side without even looking. Eyes practically burning, he then grabbed her ankles and firmly moved them back down to the bed, dragging his hands up along her legs as he leant down into his previous position again. 

“Where were we… Right, I believe you said ‘kiss’?”

He placed a soft kiss right above the elastics of her underwear, then trailed his lips down across the fabric, stopping right below to exhale softly against the inside of her left thigh.

“Then I think I heard ‘suck’,” he continued, going on to sloppily kiss and suck on the sensitive skin. She let out a long, trembling moan.

“Arlo,” she breathed.

He moved his lips over to the other thigh. “Hm… ‘Bite’, was it?” he asked before nibbling softly on her skin, earning himself a small gasp.

He kissed his way further up, until his lips were right by the edge of her underwear, hot breaths pooling in the little nook where her thigh ended. “‘Lick’,” he breathed, and as he flicked out his tongue to tease it against the skin right beneath the moist fabric, a strong shiver went through her entire body.

Arlo clenched her hips tightly in his hands. “I love how you taste,” he mumbled, causing Hannah to bite down a whimper. “But you had one more wish, didn’t you…?”

He raised his head slightly, letting his mouth hover over the fabric between her legs. Hannah drew for air, sensing what he would do but knowing that she was in no way prepared for it. 

Pressing her hips down even more firmly into the bed, Arlo hummed quietly between her legs. “_Breathe._”

The hot breath that came with that one single word seemed to vibrate through the fabric, sending a soft wave of pleasure through her body as he shaped his lips around a long exhalation that grew in strength the longer it went on. Hannah moaned loudly, unable to control her body as her hips tried thrusting upwards, only to be stopped by his strong hands pushing back against them. Without letting up the exhalation, Arlo ghosted his lips against the fabric, drawing an even louder moan out of her as she struggled not to yell curse after curse at him.

When the breath finally ceased, her chest was rising and falling quickly, her body pulsing with heat and yearning.

“Arlo, p-please,” she whimpered, unable to form any coherent sentences to properly convey what she wanted to say.

“I bet you’re soaking wet,” he murmured, earning another whimper and a curse from her as he brushed his lips lightly against her underwear again. “Are you, Hannah? Are you wet for me?”

“Yes,” she panted, trying in vain to push her hips up again. 

“Are you satisfied now that I’ve done all the things you asked me?”

She struggled against her bonds. “No! Please, Arlo...”

“Please what?”

“Kiss me,” she whined.

“But I already did, didn’t I?”

“_Arlo!!!"_

“Where do you want me to kiss you, Hannah?” 

He sounded so damn calm, and the fact that he had regained his control already infuriated her.

“_There,_” she growled, growing more and more frustrated by the second.

“Hm,” he mused, “I’m not sure I understand…”

She yanked her hands towards her, but the rope just tightened, stopping her short. “Arlo, you stupid fucking jerk!!!”

“You know what?” he said, pulling back and sitting up between her legs again. “I’m damn thirsty. I’m going to get a glass of water, do you want anything?”

The asshole was smirking at her. If he hadn’t been holding her thighs still, she would have kneed him in the face. 

“I’ll bring some water for you too,” he said with a wink when she just glared at him, then escaped the bed before she could try to murder him with her legs. “Be right back, Hot Stuff.”

She squirmed on the bed, whining to herself in frustration as she heard Arlo distantly open and close cupboards and turn on the tap in the kitchen. He took his sweet fucking time, humming some stupid little tune on his way back, then stopped by the foot of the bed to drink from his glass of water as he watched her thrash her legs towards him. He drank slowly, eyes gleaming throughout it all, and when he had finished, he sauntered up to the bedside table, where he placed a second glass next to the box.

“Now I remember,” he said. “I was supposed to tie your ankles to the bedposts, wasn’t I?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. Well, _ fine. _What she wanted him to do the most was to just get back between her legs and finish what he’d started, but tying up her ankles was a step in the right direction, she supposed.

She watched him walk around to the foot of the bed and fish up one half of the rope from where he’d thrown it next to her foot. Straightening, he ran the thumb and index finger of his right hand along the rope until he reached the end. Then he tugged it in both directions, as if to check its durability. Tilting his head to the side, he let his gaze slide slowly down along her body. Hannah squirmed under his gaze, gulping when he paused as he reached her underwear. 

“Say, Hannah,” he said, inclining his head to the black triangle of fabric. “Are you fond of those things?”

She drew for air, heat flaring between her legs as she caught his drift. “No! Nope. I couldn’t care less. Been waiting for a reason to throw them in the trash, actually.”

Arlo smirked mischievously. “Good.”

He leant down to grab her right ankle, then quickly wrapped one end of the rope around it, tying it all up with the now infamous bowline she’d practiced so many times. He checked to see that it wasn’t too tight, then dropped her foot and fastened the other end of the rope to one of the metal bars. After making quick work of the second tie, he picked up the remaining half of the rope from the mattress and moved on to her other ankle, tying it securely to a metal bar closer to that side of the bed. When he was done, he stood back to inspect his work, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips when Hannah tried to close her legs and failed.

“There,” he said. “Hands and feet secured to the bed. What now, Hannah?”

She tried parting her legs to test how much slack he’d given her, and found that she could still spread them pretty far. Arlo exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping the metal end of the bed as his gaze moved down her body. Now it was her time to smirk.

“You will do anything I tell you, yes?”

“Anything,” he confirmed without hesitation, and she had a flicker of memory of him saying he enjoyed being on both sides of this sort of thing. Tying and being tied. Controlling, and being controlled.

Time for revenge.

“Then come back over here.”

He slowly walked back around to the side of the bed, waiting for further instructions. She tilted her head to the side, letting her gaze caress its way from his right wrist, up along his arm--lingering on some of the newer scratches and superficial wounds she found there--before moving on to his shoulder and neck, which tensed beneath her gaze, his jaw clenching as he visibly willed himself to stay still for her, even under such close scrutiny. She smiled, her gaze touching across his chest, down over his toned stomach, and finally coming to a stop by the waistband of his jeans.

“Unbuckle the straps around your hips and thigh,” she said, surprised by how steady her voice was.

His eyes widened for a second before he reverted to his impassive Captain look. Without looking away from her face, he raised his hands to the metal clasp on the front right of the upper leather strap, unbuckling it with a flick of his fingers. Then his hands went to either side of him to open the last two clasps on the sides; one on his left hip, and one behind his right. Catching the upper strap with his left hand as it started sliding off, he unbuckled the clasp on the strap around his thigh, then the very last one on the lower strap around his hips. As Hannah watched, he then let everything fall to the floor with a light thud.

“Now unbutton your jeans.”

He complied without hesitation.

“Unzip the fly.”

This time, when he slowly pulled down the fly, he gritted his teeth and let out a soft groan. 

“Remove your pants.”

He pursed his lips, but he did as she asked, tugging the waistband downwards until the pants were low enough that he could pull them off from the other end. Kicking the pants to the side, he then stood up straight, looking her in the eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“What next?” he asked, and it irked her a little bit that he sounded so calm still, but she had a pretty good idea of how to remedy that in a moment.

For now, though, she was content with looking him up and down, gaze hitching on his crotch, where dark fabric made a bad attempt at hiding its hard secret within. Just to tease him, she moistened her lips as she stared, then looked up at his face to catch his reaction. The only clue she got was a twitch in one corner of his mouth. Oh, no. That wouldn’t do.

Staring straight into his eyes, she smiled and said, “Stick your hand in your underwear and touch yourself.”

Because she held his gaze in a firm grip, she managed to catch the flinch. He blinked at her, parting his lips as if to say something, but then seemed to change his mind and closed them again.

To her giddy pleasure, he raised his still gloved right hand to the waistband of his underwear, then lowered it down beneath the fabric. She could see him clench his jaw tightly as he gripped himself.

“Good,” she purred. “Now I want you to keep touching yourself, slowly, in your favourite way. And I want you to look at me while you do it.”

She watched his hand slowly start to move inside his underwear. Her gaze darted up to his face just in time to see him bite his lip as a low moan slipped out between his clenched teeth. _ Holy fuck. _Hannah let out an involuntary gasp, heat blossoming in her lower body.

“Does it feel good?” she breathed.

He nodded, gasping and leaning his head back.

“Hey,” she scolded, “look at me.”

With a soft whimper that made Hannah’s toes curl, he returned his gaze to her eyes, and she could see something desperate in them; a soft plea, but whether for relief or for mercy, she couldn’t discern. In the next second, he looked away from her face, gaze flickering down along her body. 

She stretched on the bed, arching her back as she tilted her head back and looked at him from half-lidded eyes. “You like what you see?” she drawled.

Again, he nodded, bottom lip permanently fixed in place by his teeth, it seemed.

“Say it,” she commanded.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, Hannah, _ fuck. _ I like what I see.”

She moaned with him, lifting her hips and tugging at her bonds. Having so much power over Arlo was… well, shit. It was exhilarating. She was starting to understand why he seemed to love teasing her so relentlessly. If only she’d had her hands free...

“Hannah,” he breathed, letting out another whimper. His eyes were cloudy. “Tell me to stop.”

She swallowed down her burning desire, heart jumping in her chest. “Why would I?”

Arlo groaned, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment before catching himself and opening them again. “Because,” he panted softly, “if I keep going…” He groaned, legs shuddering. “... I’m going to come.”

“And how is that my problem?” she asked, voice trembling.

He gritted his teeth as he kept pumping his hand slowly. “Hannah,” he growled. “_Please._”

The word sent pleasant tingles all the way from the back of her neck and down to her toes. She sighed softly. “Stop touching yourself.”

He withdrew his hand so quickly from his underwear, it was like he’d been bitten by a snake or burned by hot coal. Running his hands over his hair, he stared at her, cheeks and neck flaring red.

“Holy shit, Hannah,” he whispered.

“Come to bed,” she said.

He stumbled forward, catching himself with both hands against the mattress and holding himself up above her, panting as he waited for her next command. She nudged his leg with her right knee, to which he responded by placing himself between her legs again.

“Kiss me,” she breathed. “On the mouth.”

She didn’t need to ask twice. He lowered his head, covering her mouth with his, and his lips were so determined she could only gasp as he parted hers and ran his tongue along the bottom one. She nibbled back, shivering when he responded with a low, throaty growl that vibrated into her. His tongue found hers, and as the kiss grew deeper, he let his body down closer towards her, supporting himself on his elbows instead of his hands as he let himself down fully between her legs. His hips pushed ever so carefully into hers, causing her to moan helplessly into his mouth. Shit, it all felt so good, and he was hard and soft and hot and wet all at the same time, and as he rolled his hips against her again, more firmly this time, she pulled away from his lips and threw her head back, whimpering breathlessly at the sensation. Arlo didn’t lose a single beat; he trailed his hot, open-mouthed kisses across her jaw and down to her neck, nibbling at her earlobe before pushing against her one more time.

“Arlo,” she panted, meeting his hips with hers and pulling a moan out of him in reward.

“You,” he whispered, “are a huge fucking tease, Hannah.”

“I learnt from the best, Captain,” she moaned, tilting her head further back to give him more space to work with.

He stilled against her and she paused. What had she said to make him stop? She started turning her head back to him, wanting to look at him and see if his face would give anything away as she felt him pull back, but then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue finding its way inside to tangle with hers. 

His hips rolled steadily against her now, pressing deliciously into the sensitive area between her legs, and if it hadn’t been for the bonds around her wrists and ankles, she knew she would have thrown herself over him and devoured him whole.

But then he shifted his weight above her, moving his elbows upwards. Hannah moaned impatiently, twisting her head to try to follow his mouth as he pulled away again, only to be stopped by a sharp tug in her hair. Arlo chuckled even as his mouth latched on to a patch of skin just behind her jaw, his hand continuing to move over her body, alternating between lazy swirling strokes and the gentle short scratches of his nails as he touched her everywhere he could reach, from shoulder to thigh. Now that she’d noticed it, she could feel his other fingers twisting further through her hair, pulling her head back and holding it still. 

“Arlo, plea--” 

She cut herself off with a sharp gasp as his teeth grazed her collar bone.

“Please what?” he murmured against her skin, and she cursed inwardly when she realised that fuck, he’d regained his control and had the upper hand again. “I thought you wanted me to be rough with you, Hot Stuff?”

The way that he growled her nickname sent a jolt through her body, but the fact that he’d just effortlessly picked up his teasing where he’d left off earlier--as if he hadn’t just been ordered to undress and touch himself in front of her--made her want to scream. “Arlo, you fucking asshole, I’m gonna--”

She yelped as he tugged at her hair again, forcing her head back.

“Oh yes, you wanted to be gagged as well, didn’t you?” His eyes gleamed in amusement, and if she hadn’t literally been tied down, she would have kicked him in the groin. 

He tore his attention away from her face and sat up between her legs, gaze darting down across the bed. “Where did... ah ha!” 

Arlo’s hand slid down her body to grab his bandana from next to her, and he slowly pulled it up, the cotton causing a delicious friction against her sensitive skin as he trailed it along her side, then lightly over her nipples, pulling a soft gasp out of her.

“Any last requests before you can’t make any more?” he purred, twirling the bandana roughly into a long strip.

“Actually, yes,” she breathed. She looked directly at him, meeting his curious eyes squarely. Now that she’d had a taste of what it was like to have the upper hand, she was determined to get it back, if even for a brief moment. And she knew exactly how she was going to get another taste. 

“I want you to pay me back for every time I’ve teased you in the past,” she said, keeping her gaze steady. “Every look... every touch... every time I’ve made you want to bend me over the nearest flat surface and take me.” 

He parted his lips around a silent _ oh, _raising an intrigued eyebrow in a clear invitation for her to go on.

“I want you to make sure I can’t walk for a week,” she continued breathlessly. “I want you to pay me back…” She lifted her hips and threw her head back, opening herself up to him in a way she hoped would emphasise the meaning in her next few words. ”... and I want you to make… me… _ yours_.”

Arlo drew for air above her. “Shit, Hannah,” he breathed, hands clenching the bandana as his eyes darted over her face hungrily. “That’s… That’s a dangerous thing to say to someone who has you nearly completely naked and tied to a bed.”

She raised her chin in defiance. “I know what I’m getting myself into.” 

She trusted him more than she had ever trusted anyone else. Through all of their friendship, he’d been soft and caring and attentive, never once overstepping any boundaries or giving her any reason whatsoever to doubt his sincere intentions. Not to mention that she’d entrusted him with her life even before this Saturday, and after seeing how considerate he’d been in making sure she was in complete control during all of this, she knew there was absolutely no chance he would take unjustified liberties with her consent. If there was anyone she could trust to keep her best interest in mind even when she was naked and tied to a bed, it was Arlo.

His gaze took its sweet time moving hungrily down her body, hitching once or twice along the way. “Oh, Hannah... Oh, you really _ don’t _ know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Her heart jumped, but before she could think about what he meant, Arlo leant in closer, holding the twirled strip of fabric over her mouth.

“Open up,” he purred, “_Hot Stuff_.”

She gulped, but she parted her lips for him, then lifted her head so he could gently secure the bandana at the back of her head. When he’d finished the knot and made sure it wasn’t too tight, she gently ran her tongue over the fabric, revelling in the taste of him; a musky, slightly sweat-tinged flavour that made her feel like she was digging her face into his neck. Yes. Yes, this was absolutely fine. She could definitely live with this.

She looked up at him as he smirked and raised his hands in front of him, using his right hand to open the little clasp that held the fingerless glove on his left hand in place and tugging the glove off before dropping it to the floor next to the bed. Then he did the same with his other hand. When he was done, he carefully flexed his fingers, turning his hands back and forth as he studied them with his head tilted to the side. Hannah followed his gaze, frowning when she saw the plentitude of cuts on his palms and fingers.

But Arlo didn’t seem ruffled by the sight. He lowered his hands to rest them against her sides, then leant in closer, stopping next to her ear. “Now, Hannah,” he whispered, “I’m going to etch my name into your brain once and for all.”

Hannah drew for air, heart pounding in her chest as Arlo’s mouth latched on to the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his fingers fluttering down along her sides and sending pleasant tingles through her body before pausing by her hips, where they made slow, swirling movements across her skin. She jerked, gasping involuntarily into the bandana, and the bastard chuckled against her neck.

“I love those little gasps so much,” he mumbled, hands squeezing her hips in emphasis.

He shifted above her, slowly moving his body downwards as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw, to her collar bone, to the curve of her left breast, and then he brought up his left hand to tease her right nipple with his thumb while his mouth peppered moist kisses around her left. She groaned quietly, leaning her head back and trying to pull her leg to her, but the rope just tightened around her ankle. She squeezed her eyes shut as Arlo closed his mouth around her nipple and tongue-kissed it so softly, so slowly, that she thought she would go mad. 

“Arlo,” she whispered, or at least, that was what she _ would _have whispered, hadn’t it been for the strip of fabric between her teeth. What actually came out ended up sounding more like, “Ang-goh”, but it seemed to have the same desired effect nonetheless, because Arlo’s kisses grew more insistent, his thumb flicking over her faster even as his body moved further and further down towards the foot of the bed, and Hannah’s breaths came in ragged gasps, uncontrollable and desperate.

And then his mouth and hand left her breasts, moving on instead to kiss and touch and nibble and caress her stomach and sides, and Hannah was growing hot, panting as she tried not to get too excited about where he was going, because she knew he was in control, and she knew _ damn well _ how much he loved teasing her, and she wasn’t about to risk him letting up his ministrations just because he noticed how absolutely desperate she was for him to keep going. 

Only when his beard tickled her groin and his fingers hooked around the waistband of her underwear, she couldn’t help lifting her hips; it was an almost subconscious movement, her body screaming for him to _ take her_, but he just pushed her down with his palms pressed against her hips, and then his nose brushed against the fabric between her legs and she groaned in frustration.

“Do you remember,” he murmured, voice low and husky, “last Autumn?”

She frowned, struggling to clear her mind enough to really consider the question. He couldn’t want her to answer anyway, she reasoned, because he’d just gagged her, so what was he after? 

His fingertips hooked into her skin, his nails softly dragging downwards along the outsides of her thighs, making her draw for air again.

“Remember when that door mechanism broke, and it was too far up for you, so you had to climb up on my shoulders?”

Hannah widened her eyes, instantly pulled back to that day in the Amber Cave, gasping as the memory of Arlo’s beard rasping against her knee--of his breath fanning out over her thigh--smacked into her again.

“Nngh,” she replied, squirming in his grip.

“Remember,” Arlo whispered, letting his lips briefly touch the fabric, “when I caught you as you lost your balance… and I twisted you around on my shoulders… and you squirmed, and you let out this--this absolutely breathtaking little moan?”

Hannah gulped, meeting Arlo’s gaze as he looked up at her with so much intensity that she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

“Do you remember, Hannah?”

She nodded.

His fingers moved back up to her underwear, coming in from either side, teasing the skin on her inner thighs. Hannah held in a gasp as his fingertips slipped in just barely beneath the fabric, not yet touching her but hanging tantalisingly close.

Lowering his head further, so that his lips were lightly pressed against her, Arlo hummed, “Will you moan like that for me again?”

The vibrations of his voice was too much, it was just _ too much_, and she couldn’t hold in the half-strangled moan that searched its way up through her throat as Arlo’s lips moved, and kept moving, and transformed into a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the moist fabric, and a hot flare shot up from his lips and through her body all the way up to her head, where it manifested itself as a heavy need for _ more. _

“Ang-goh!”

“What was that?” he murmured, sending another wave of vibrations directly into her. Hannah threw her head back, moaning in frustration.

“_Angh! Oh!_”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that.” 

She was about to try a third time, but then his fingertips grazed against her inside her underwear, and her annoyed groan turned into a gasp. But his fingers stilled, and he raised his head again, drawing out a sigh of disappointment from her.

“Remember when you were fixing that long haul bus?” he asked in that same low voice, angling his elbows up to push down her hips when they tried moving again. “And I was handing you the tools you needed?”

“Mm-hm,” she breathed, already growing impatient, but knowing that he was going to play his little game with her regardless of what she did.

“And you said,” he whispered, “you said, ‘are you going to give it to me anytime soon?’”

She whimpered and tugged at her bonds. Yes. Yes, she remembered that. She remembered it like it was yesterday, because that’s how often she’d imagined the different ways it could have gone. When he’d left her there, in her kitchen, and she’d realised the position they’d been in, and her cheeks had flushed as his strange behaviour suddenly made sense to her. But she hadn’t dared to hope that he was actually interested in her; no, she’d just assumed he’d left her because she’d overstepped a boundary in their friendship without even realising it, so she didn’t really know what he’d actually been thinking.

“Do you have any idea,” he growled, “what that did to me?”

The intensity in his voice made her heart skip as she stared down at him, panting. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he drew in a shuddering breath.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to step away, to stay rational, when you then joined me in the kitchen, tugged me in between your legs and pulled my head down towards you? How much I wanted to just push you down onto your back on that counter, tear off your stupid little tight shorts and _ give it _ to you?” 

His fingertips trembled against her, like he was struggling not to touch her. Hannah whined and threw her head back, partly because she wished he _ had _ “given it” to her then, and partly because could he at least stop torturing her and do it _ now_?

His mouth moved to the side, to kiss the upper inside of her thigh, and he gave her a soft, open-mouthed kiss that made a hot shiver run through her body.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmured against the sensitive skin, “how much you made me want to tug your hips towards me, lift your leg up on my shoulder, and fuck you right there on your damn kitchen counter?” He nibbled her skin with his teeth. “Do you, Hannah?”

She let out a long, frustrated moan as she squirmed against his strong arms. “Ang-goh,” she whined, lifting her head to give him a pleading look. “Pwhhs!” 

He looked back at her; eyes dark, pupils wide, lips parted around shallow breaths. “Hannah.”

“Yesh,” she panted.

“Do you still want me,” he asked, “to give it to you?”

“Yesh!”

He exhaled a hot breath against her that sent a shiver through her legs. Slowly--excruciatingly slowly--he used two fingers to push the fabric to the side, then let another fingertip flutter lightly across her folds before positioning it at her entrance. She drew in a sharp breath.

“Then I will,” he murmured against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Control, Part 4 - Feb 15th  
Control, Part 5 - Feb 16th  
[A Word or Three (Extra) - Feb 17th]  
Alongside You (final chapter) - Feb 19th


	34. Control, Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah finally gets what she's been craving for so long - and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Being Restrained / Oral / Fingering / Gagging / Penetration 
> 
> Continues straight after the last chapter ends. (And I mean STRAIGHT AFTER)

Arlo slowly pushed one finger inside of her, gasping softly as she moaned and leant her head back. 

“Fuck,” he murmured emphatically. “You really are wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Mnnnngh,” she moaned around the gag, and even if she hadn’t been gagged, she probably wouldn’t have been able to phrase anything more cohesive than that, with all her focus on the one point inside that his fingertip now curved into. Having him finally give her what she’d wanted from him for so long, and knowing that he was in full control of her pleasure, was so incredibly sexy and even better than she could have ever expected.

He started to massage her slowly, his breath puffing against the inside of her thigh again before the fingers of his other hand parted her and he placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss right at her most sensitive spot. Her hips jerked, and she realised that he wasn’t holding her down anymore, he couldn’t now that his hands were… occupied, so she pushed her hips up against him, feeling him groan before quickening the pace of his finger inside of her. His mouth closed around her, and he did the most _ delicious _thing, where he sucked and licked alternately in time with his finger’s movement, sending a blazing trail of heat up into her body that made her absolutely breathless. She tried pulling up her legs, but only got so far before the rope caught and locked her in place, so she settled for squeezing her thighs around his head instead, struggling to keep her breath steady as Arlo’s mouth moved against her and his fingertip became more earnest in its fondling.

“Ahhn--Ahngooh,” she whimpered, arching her back.

He just hummed, refusing to let up, even going so far as to nibble carefully with his teeth in a way that made her jerk and gasp for air.

Oh fuck, she wasn’t going to last, he wouldn’t stop and everything was hot and wet and intense and she was burning, she was falling apart, unable to hold in her breathy moans as the temperature in her body rose together with the ardent pleasure bursting up from between her legs and up into her gut. Arlo hummed again, and the sensation of his low voice oscillating against her was the final deathblow to her rational mind. She let out a strangled moan that turned into a loud whimper as her legs started jerking uncontrollably, the heat within her flaring intensely as something primal within her broke and exploded into pure, silky soft pleasure that caught her in a grip as firm as steel before dropping her twenty feet into a cool pond of absolute delight.

When she came back to her senses, her forehead was damp with sweat, and Arlo was kissing her softly, carefully, lapping at her as he slowly pulled his finger out. She jerked slightly, letting out another breathless whimper.

He looked up at her, and she looked at him, and he was smirking in an almost predatory way that made her chest constrict.

“Don’t think for even a _ second _that I’m done playing with you,” he purred, and as she looked on, his tongue darted out to run along his bottom lip, licking away the traces of her. Hannah let out a flustered groan and threw her head back, feeling Arlo shift between her legs to sit up on his knees again, and then his fingers hooked around her underwear. “I think these have served their purpose, don’t you?”

“Hnngh,” she groaned, nodding as she squirmed against the bed.

She heard a ripping sound, a slight pull at her hips, and then Arlo was holding her ripped underwear in his hand, letting it dangle in front of her. She gulped at how pleased he looked, his fingers bunching the fabric up into his fist before nonchalantly tossing it to the side. He fell forward, catching himself on his hands on either side of her shoulders, an amused smirk colouring his lips as he looked down at her.

“Look at you,” he cooed. “All naked, all flustered, and all _ mine._” He leant in closer to touch his lips against her jaw, sending a shiver from her neck and throughout her whole body. “I wonder what I’m going to do with you now?”

“Mhhhm!”

“What’s that? You want me to give you more, Hannah?” He nibbled at her neck. “I recall something about… not wanting to be able to walk for a week?”

Hannah nodded eagerly.

“Are you sure you’d be able to handle it?”

She rolled her eyes back and groaned as she lifted her hips, hoping he would take the hint. He lowered himself down over her and met her hips with his own, just carefully, but the delicious pressure it created was enough to make her moan against her gag.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmured between kisses against her neck, between slow _ thrusts, _ “what you’ve done to me in the past year?”

She tried shaking her head, but his fingers had found their way into her hair again, locking her in place, so she could only let out a disgruntled sound as he kept torturing her with his hot, wet kisses and his salacious movements against her.

“Ever since last Summer, you’ve been teasing me with your innuendos and invitations and winks and tricks… Constantly finding new ways to rile me up.” 

He paused to suck on a spot below her jaw, drawing out a whimper from her as he very clearly marked her with his mouth, and she wanted to curse at him, she wanted to tell him that _ he was the one who started it _with his stupidly strong arms and dark looks and purred nicknames, but then all thoughts were blown out the window as he rolled his hips into her even more firmly this time, creating a delicious friction that forced a strangled moan out of her throat.

“I thought it was just coincidence at first,” he murmured, “how you always seemed to say the most suggestive things… And you didn’t even care where we were, or who saw us. You didn’t seem even slightly aware of what you were doing. But then…” His hips rolled into her again, and she gasped out a moan. “Then you just turned it all up even more, until it became _ painfully clear _ that you did know.”

She squirmed beneath him, almost completely locked in place as he had his way with her, and it was crazy, because he was barely _ doing _anything, but she still felt something build up inside of her again, something that had her struggling to breathe as it grew and grew, and the way his husky voice travelled through her skin wasn’t helping.

“You’ve flirted recklessly,” he breathed, “even in public, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my mask on. I’ve been Captain for years, Hannah, and _ nothing _\--neither fear, nor anger, nor sorrow--has ever been as challenging to push down as the things you’ve made me feel.”

She was panting now, whimpering in time with his thrusts, and her body wanted so badly to arch, to move, to wrap around him, but there was no room; her restraints were too tight and his hand in her hair was too determined and his body pushed too hard against her, and each little touch of his breath against the skin beneath her jaw was driving her _ crazy. _

“You told me to pay you back,” he growled, “for every time you’ve made me want to bend you over the nearest flat surface and take you. But if you knew how many times I’ve had to escape before I did something wholly inappropriate... How many cold showers I’ve had to take because of you…” He groaned. “You would think twice before offering me to ‘pay you back’.”

His hips stilled, and she wanted to scream, but she just let out a displeased whimper instead. Arlo touched his lips against her jaw, then her cheek, and then nibbled at her bottom lip. 

“But you offered,” he said, giving her a crooked smirk. “And Hannah... I am taking that offer.”

He thrust his hips into hers again, and she couldn’t help a protracted moan from slipping out between her lips. Arlo exhaled an amused breath against her skin, then sat back up again, his smirk slowly shifting into a slight frown as he looked around the room. 

“Only one problem,” he said, and Hannah sobered at the serious tone of voice. When his gaze flickered back to her face, his frown softened. “Let’s just say,” he murmured, “that I didn’t really expect this turn of events when I came to see you today, so going to fetch condoms from the clinic wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind.”

_ Oh. _

Hannah flushed, because she had a solution to that little problem, but admitting that Sam had given her condoms last Autumn was… Well. But… if the alternative was to have to stop their fun…

She inclined her head to the bedside drawer, seeing how his gaze followed the movement. He raised an eyebrow and looked back at her, but when she just blinked up at him innocently, he reached out and opened the drawer, digging around for a moment before pulling out a condom packet that he held up between them, giving her an inquisitive look.

“Should I be jealous?” he asked, and his silky smooth voice made desire flare in her lower abdomen again.

She shook her head. “Tham!”

He frowned, uncomprehending, but when she repeated the word again, she could see him freeze.

“_Sam _?” he asked in an incredulous voice.

Hannah nodded, watching in fascination as his cheeks coloured. He glanced away, grumbling something below his breath, then sighed and returned his attention to Hannah. He studied her face for a moment, twirling the packet between his fingers absentmindedly. Then he stopped and pursed his lips, tilting his head as a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. Still holding the packet in his hand, he fell forward, catching himself on his palms on either side of her head and leaning in so that his lips were less than an inch away. She lifted her head in an attempt to catch his mouth, but he pulled away, smiling.

“Remember that time at the beach,” he asked, “when you offered to take my clothes off?”

She blinked up at him, feeling her cheeks quickly flare up again. Oh, _ that _little incident… She’d wanted to check one more time if what she’d remembered from their drunk Saturday on Amber Island was just a pleasant day dream or if Arlo had actually flirted with her, but since he’d blown her off during training the day after, she’d been scared to bits of how he would react. And then… Then Nora had interrupted her before she could find out, and she hadn’t been sure whether to feel annoyed or grateful for it.

“Yesh,” she whispered.

“Well,” he murmured back, moistening his lips, “does that offer still stand?”

She widened her eyes, gaze flickering down to the glimpse of fabric by his hip, then up again as something in his eyes darkened, almost like a challenge. Shit, he was serious? Even the mere thought of getting to slowly tug his underwear off his hips and down his legs was… well, it was _ appealing_, that’s for sure _ . _ She was about to squeeze out another affirmation when he cocked his head to the side and the mischief returned to his eyes.

“Oh, silly me,” he said. “You’re a bit tied up at the moment, aren’t you?”

She wanted to headbutt him, but again, he jerked back his head, chuckling at the scowl she gave him. 

“Don’t worry, Hot Stuff. You’ll get to feel me soon enough.”

She drew for air, because that made all kinds of wonderful images pop into her brain, and so she just looked on eagerly as he stood back on his knees again, thumbs digging in beneath the waistband of his underwear. His smile faded, changing into a dark look of pure, unhampered desire, making Hannah gulp. His gaze was fixed to her eyes even as he slowly started pushing his thumbs down, moving the fabric along with them. She didn’t even try to hide the hunger in her eyes as she let her gaze trail along the v of his hips, his lower abdomen, his groin, following the movement of his thumbs closely as they moved further and further down…

… And then he pushed the fabric all the way down to his knees, revealing fluffy red pubes and strong, defined hips, and just to take it all in again, she moved her gaze back upwards, along his abs, across the chest dusted with hair and freckles, and up to his face, where she paused as she saw that he was pouting. At first she didn’t understand, frowning at him in confusion, but then he glanced quickly downwards before looking at her again. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh mah gahg Ahn-goh,” she muttered, sighing internally in amusement at how disappointed he seemed by her lack of reaction.

He let out a huff of air, then lifted one knee at a time to tug his underwear the rest of the way down his legs and off before dropping them to the floor next to the bed. He grabbed the packet from right beside her hip, ripping it open and rolling the condom onto himself, and Hannah felt almost obliged to watch, smirking in amusement at the fact that even Arlo--serious and stone faced Arlo, the honourable Captain of the Civil Corps of Portia--had an obsession with his own dick.

When he was finished, he leant in over her again, supporting himself on his right elbow as he reached up with his left hand to tug at the rope around her wrists.

“No tingling?” he asked.

She tried wriggling her fingers and found that they worked perfectly, so she shook her head in response, causing him to slide his fingertips down along her arms, softly tickling against her armpits before settling around her right breast, and then he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss at the edge of her jaw. His fingers fluttered lightly over her nipple as he settled fully between her legs. Hannah gasped at the new sensation, and how deliciously exposed she felt.

“I know you asked me to be rough with you,” he murmured, peppering kisses along her jaw, “but I trust you to yell at me if it gets too intense.”

Her breath hitched in her throat at the unexpected tenderness of his comment, and she nodded, sighing softly as his thumb flicked out over her nipple and he parted his lips to start a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses down along her neck, humming tenderly as he went. She leant her head back, tugging her hands towards her and feeling the rope go taut, struggling to control her breathing as Arlo’s mouth reached her collar bone.

He pulled back and looked up at her, letting go of her breast to run a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it back and out of his face. He had his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes were the most glossy she had ever seen them, and her heart jumped at just how beautiful he was. She wanted to tell him, damn the stupid gag.

Arlo shifted above her so that he supported himself on both elbows, his gaze darting across her face one last time before his mouth latched onto her neck again. And then, after switching his weight slightly between her legs, he started pushing into her.

Hannah gasped against the bandana as he entered her, pushing slowly forward, mouth pausing beneath her ear as he groaned softly. She bit down on the fabric, closing her eyes and trying to focus on breathing as he kept pushing, stopping only when he’d filled her up completely. Then his left hand left its position to reach up and intertwine its fingers with her hair, jerking her head back to be able to reach behind her ear with his mouth. She gasped, feeling how he started pulling out again, then back in, rolling his hips slowly back and forth. Hannah moaned at the friction against the most sensitive spot inside of her, hearing a mumbled curse from Arlo against her neck.

For every push, he sped up the pace, digging his fingers more deeply into her hair and constantly losing the rhythm of his mouth as he exhaled absolutely lewd moans against her skin, and Hannah half-moaned, half-whimpered with him, gasping for breath as he suddenly sat back on his knees, gripping her hips and pulling her roughly towards him into a new angle. Her wrists strained against the rope, which was starting to dig into her skin, but she couldn’t care less, because she now had a perfect view of Arlo as he kept pumping into her, his eyes dark and almost desperate and his jaw clenched tightly. She pushed up her hips to meet his, and was rewarded with a strangled moan.

His hands ran down along her thighs, fingernails rasping against her skin, and then he gripped her knees and pushed them up as far as he could before the ropes pulled taut. He let out a disgruntled sound, slowing his movements for a moment as he reached down with his hands to her ankles and untied them with a quick flick of his wrists. Before she could fully register it and wonder about his intentions, he moved his hands back up, roughly grabbing her knees and pushing them up, up so that her thighs were almost flat against her stomach, and he pulled her ankles up to rest on his shoulders as he repositioned himself below her on the bed, and then he was grinding his hips into her again. Hannah whimpered at the change in sensation, locking her ankles together behind his neck and breathing curse after curse into the fabric of the bandana as the friction sent hot waves of pleasure rippling through her.

Slowing down just slightly, Arlo leant forward, pushing his palms into the mattress and digging his nails into the sheets, his eyes burning as he looked at her, and _ by Peach _ did the way his arm muscles work under his taut skin make her want to touch him, but she _ couldn’t_. So instead, she pushed herself back up against him, causing him to squeeze his eyes closed and part his lips around a silent moan before dropping his head to reach her jaw with his lips.

“Fuck, Hannah,” he breathed. “Just… fuck.”

His bangs tickled her face as he pulled his head back again, panting softly above her. She was just about getting used to the pace and force when he suddenly started pushing into her even harder, one hand shooting up to hold her right calf in place against his shoulder, and she was slowly being pushed further and further up on the bed, not really noticing it at all until one last push sent her head banging into her arms, and then the metal bars at the top, and she yelled out in pain, squeezing her eyes closed as everything started spinning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Control, Part 5 - Feb 16th  
[A Word or Three (Extra) - Feb 17th]  
Alongside You (final chapter) - Feb 19th


	35. Control, Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo gets a taste of his own medicine when Hannah turns everything on its end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for:  
Smut
> 
> Continues straight after the last chapter ends.

She distantly registered that Arlo stopped moving, freezing in place above her.

“Hannah!” he called, but his voice was far away, and in her state of confusion, she couldn’t understand why he sounded so panicked.

She tried to answer him, but for some reason she couldn’t get anything out except a muffled groan. As she tried to regain her bearings, Arlo suddenly started moving again, but it wasn’t the same kind of movement as before; she felt his fingers touch her wrists, and then the rope fell away, and next, his hands moved down to carefully lift her head, untying the bandana and pulling it slowly out from her mouth.

“Hannah,” he repeated, “look at me!”

She opened her eyes, trying to blink away the stars that appeared in the outskirts of her blurry vision. She could just make out Arlo’s concerned expression.

“Say something,” he pleaded, and his voice was slowly coming back to its normal strength now, the blurred edges around her vision sharpening again.

“I--I’m,” she tried, frowning when the words seemed to hang just out of her reach. “I’m not feeling so great.”

He shifted his weight, lying down beside her on the bed and pulling her into his arms. She closed her eyes again and relaxed, revelling in how nice it felt to be hugged close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, squeezing her carefully against him. “Fuck. Should I go get Xu? I should, shouldn’t I? He’s going to get so mad. Not that I blame him, fuck, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have--I should have waited until you were fully healed, I--”

“Arlo,” she said, sighing deeply. “I’ll be fine. Okay?”

“But you--you bumped your head, and now you’re all dizzy and confused and--shit, fuck, you’re going to lose your memories, and you’re going to go back to calling me Mr Captain Sir, and I can’t take it, I just can’t go through that again…” He trailed off, drawing in a trembling breath. “Hannah, I can’t. I can’t go back.”

“No one’s asking you to go back, what are you even talking about?” she asked, pulling away and opening her eyes to study his face, which was possible now that her sight had gotten less blurry, thank Peach. “You’re rambling, Arlo.”

He blinked at her, studying her face with wide eyes as he seemed to struggle to comprehend what she was saying.

“I… what?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m fine,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder, and then she froze, staring at her own hand.

“What’s wrong?” Arlo asked, immediately on alert again.

Hannah frowned, turning the hand back and forth a few times, then reaching out to touch his shoulder again. “I… I can touch you now,” she said slowly, her lips quirking up into a pleased smirk.

Arlo’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, well... I untied you.”

She placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, then slid them downwards, biting down a giggle as he drew for air beneath her touch. His hands reached up to grab her wrists.

“I hardly think this is the time to--”

He broke off, gasping as she lifted her leg to wrap it around his hip, pulling him in towards her.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice growing urgent now, “I’m not going to do anything to you while you’re dizzy and confused.”

She paused for a moment, considering his words. Then her smirk grew into a full-on grin. She leant in closer, heart jumping when she saw his eyes widen.

“Then let me take control,” she whispered.

Before he could argue, she pushed as hard as she could against him, making him yelp as he lost his balance and rolled over on his back, then drawing for air when she climbed on top of him.

“Hannah, what--”

“Arlo,” she replied, taking care to say his name as clearly and sharply as possible, to rid him of any ideas that she wasn’t in her right mind. “I’m fine. And if anything happens to make me _ not _fine, you’ll notice it right away, because I’ll be the one in control. Okay?”

He stared up at her, lips parting as he seemed to take in what she was suggesting, and the way his pupils dilated might have been confirmation enough, but she needed to hear him say it.

“I, er, I mean, this is--”

“I’m _ fine_,” she repeated with a soft smile. “Except, actually, I’m not. I was promised to be so worn out I wouldn’t be able to walk for a week, and at this rate, I’ll be running around like normal tomorrow.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think you could help me with that?”

He bit down on his bottom lip, gaze darting across her face. Then his grip loosened around her wrists. “I… all right,” he murmured. He moved his hands to her hips. “You’re in charge, Hannah.”

Her smile grew as her gaze raked over his shoulders, his broad chest and his abs, and when she looked back up at his face, it was with a wide smirk on her lips. She delighted in seeing a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Oh I know, _ Captain_,” she teased.

Arlo froze, wincing as he turned his head to the side. “Just… don’t call me that, please?”

Just like that, her smirk was wiped clean off her face, and she felt a dull fear start to bubble up in her chest. “I, I’m sorry, I didn’t--I didn’t know, but of course that’s weird for you, I’m so sorry, you’re not here as an officer but as Arlo, and--”

“Ssh,” he hushed, hands moving up to squeeze hers as he looked back into her eyes again. “It’s not that. It’s just… You called me that after we drifted apart, so I associate it with… with bad memories.”

She blinked at him. Oh. _ Oh. _ That made sense. That made real sense. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated in a whisper. “I won’t do it again.”

He looked down at their hands, and when his gaze returned to meet her eyes, something had shifted in it. The hurt and pain were gone, and instead, she only saw curiosity there. He tilted his head to the side, a slow smile growing on his lips; it was soft at first, but then it turned smug.

“Well,” he said, voice low, “if anyone could change that association, it’d have to be you, Hot Stuff.”

Hannah frowned, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. But the way he looked at her… 

He must have seen how hesitant she was, because he brought her hands downwards and planted them firmly on his waist. She glanced down at them, then looked back up at his face. So he really wanted her to try, then?

Watching his face closely to make sure that he was ok with what she was doing, she pulled her hands away from his and made long strokes with her palms up from his waist, across his chest and to his shoulders. 

“Hmm,” she said in a low voice, letting her hands continue their paths down along his upper arms, then his forearms. “No one would be happier about that than I would.”

He parted his lips to let out a shaky breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She bit down a smile, then leant forward, hands clenching his wrists as her lips touched against his jaw, then kissed their way up to his ear, where she exhaled softly, relishing the little gasp he gave her in reward. “I mean,” she purred silkily, “I kind of like the idea of being tied up and, and fucked by you, _ Captain_.”

She said the last word in a half moan, half breathy whisper, and she could feel him shudder beneath her, his chest rising and then falling in a shallow breath. She trailed kisses back down across his neck, stopping by his pulse point, where she pulled her lips back and carefully rasped her teeth against his skin.

“Because,” she whispered breathlessly, “you can have me any way you want.” And as she nibbled at his neck, she let out a low moan, nearly a whimper, and then added in another _ “Captain” _for good measure.

Arlo leant his head back on the pillow and moaned. “Hannah…”

“Yes?” she purred.

His hands squeezed her hips, nails digging into her skin in a delightfully painful way. “Shit, Hannah,” he growled, “you make that sound so fucking tempting.”

Emboldened by his words, she pressed herself flush against him and rolled her hips forward, and damn, the moan he choked out was, was _ something. _

“You can have me any way you want,” she repeated, “after I’ve had _ my _way with you.”

As he let out an impatient sound, she shifted downwards to kiss his chest, at first just chaste ones with closed lips, but as she neared his left nipple, she opened her mouth and touched his skin with her tongue. He exhaled softly, chest rising and falling. Her hands moved up to touch his neck, then his shoulders, then run down along his arms until she reached his hands by her hips, and she grabbed his wrists and jerked them away, pushing them hard into the mattress on either side of him. He leant his head back, panting softly as she now closed her mouth around his nipple, kissing and sucking, revelling in how he squirmed beneath her.

She _ was _ in charge. And holy shit, did she like it.

After giving his right nipple a taste of the same treatment, she pulled back slightly and lifted her hips, feeling how his dick twitched against the inside of her thigh. Her grip hardened around his wrists as she saw him bite into his lip.

“You want me to ride you Captain, is that it?” she whispered against his chest, smiling when he drew for air and squirmed beneath her.

“Yes,” he breathed, “_please_.”

She glanced up at his face. “Then stay still for me, ok?”

He had the audacity to smirk, so she bit carefully into his nipple, which instantly wiped the smirk off his lips as he jerked against her. “Yes ma’am,” he panted, causing her to bite down a groan even as her heart jumped at how his voice sounded around that nickname.

She moved up to kiss him, letting her tongue dart out across his lips. She could feel him smirking again, and decided that simply wouldn’t do, so she shifted her hips in a circle, and felt him twitch against her once more. Then she slowly started to rock forward and backwards on him, rubbing herself against his length and biting down the gasp she wanted to make from the delicious sensation.

His breath stuttered and she pulled back slightly from the kiss, wanting to hear if he’d make any sounds. His arms flexed as his wrists twisted under her hold, fingers clenching on air as he tried to grab onto something, but stayed obediently pressed to the bed. She kept slowly dragging herself along him, feeling his hardness rub against her and part her in the best way. And his eyes fell shut and he clenched his jaw, breathing hard through his nose and looking amazing without trying. But he was still annoyingly quiet, even when she upped her pace slightly.

She leant forward a bit, rolling her hips again until he settled against her in the right place, then slid backwards and sat up in a single movement, enjoying his silent gasp as he filled her completely again, and moaning softly as the different angle hit new spots inside her. She let go of his wrists, moving her hands to his trail across his stomach instead as she looked down at him.

“Now,” she said, drawing for air, “I’m going to pay _ you _back, Arlo.”

His gaze snapped back to her face, his full attention focused on her.

“I’m going to pay you back,” she continued, “for all the times I flirted with you and got no... response… whatsoever.” 

She punctuated each of the last three words with a quirk of her hips, drawing out soft, breathy moans from the beautiful man beneath her.

“I’ll pay you back,” she breathed, because even the slight friction she got from moving her hips slowly back and forth was enough to send jolts of pleasure through her, “for being a gorgeous… deep-voiced… athletic… tender… stubborn… and annoyingly _ stone faced _… redhead in uniform.”

He gasped out a moan, digging his fingertips into the sheets. “Hannah,” he panted, “_fuck._”

The last word came out in a needy whimper, goading her on to grind more earnestly against him, a sharp stab of satisfaction inside her causing her to fall forward over him and catch herself with her hands against the mattress as she found herself mere inches away from his face; his beautiful, scrunched up face, so clearly and deeply affected by her movements against him that even when he opened his eyes to look at her, they were cloudy and far away and completely immersed in what she was doing to him. 

She kept grinding, pulling more strangled moans and gasps out of him, and she watched on in fascination, because damn, it had been so long since he last allowed her to see emotions on his face, and seeing him let go so completely that his well-practiced veil of impassion cracked and fell away in front of her felt like a gift she wanted to treasure every little moment of. 

And her thoughts were drawn to the push up competition almost a year ago, and the way he’d looked at her after he’d won. The way he’d looked at her with his bright eyes, panting slightly from the exertion, and the way his forehead had shone with just a thin layer of sweat as he raised his hand to run it through his already tousled hair, and how she’d wanted to do the same with her own fingers.

She could do that now. She could _ definitely _ do that now.

Without stopping her movements against him, she raised one of her hands from its place against the mattress. And as he looked up at her with his dark, cloudy eyes, lips parted as he panted shallowly, she threaded her fingers through his bangs, and she ran them back over his head, tugging his head to the side to be able to continue all the way back to his neck. He groaned, Adam’s apple bobbing as she scraped her nails down from his neck and to his shoulder before returning her hand up to his hair. She pushed his head back again, interlacing her fingers with his hair, holding him still and watching as he looked at her, just looked at her, looking almost feverish with his pink cheeks and glossy eyes and slight sheen of sweat along his hairline, and _ fuck _, he was beautiful.

“Touch me,” she said breathlessly.

His fingers fluttered up along her thighs, then hips, then slid across her stomach up to her breasts, which he squeezed in his hands, causing her to gasp and push herself closer to him, touching her lips against the corner of his mouth and feeling her heart skip a beat when he parted his lips for her. They breathed into each other for a moment, then Arlo’s lips started moving against hers, and she followed along in the slow dance, moaning as the tip of his tongue touched against hers and she tasted something faintly salty and innately sexual that made her cheeks flush. Their breaths mixed as the kiss became more insistent, and Arlo wrapped his arms around her back to pull her closer even as she kept undulating against him in slow, torturous movements that made her feel like she was about to catch on fire. She wanted more; she wanted all of him; she wanted to feel his hands all over her and see his face scrunch up in complete bliss and hear him whimper her name; but it felt so good like this, to just take it slow, to just feel _ everything _as she moved against him.

His grip around her became firmer, and so she stopped moving, releasing his hair and pulling away from his lips to give him an inquisitive look. He panted softly as he looked back up at her, eyes still glazed over.

“Hannah,” he whispered, “is it all right if I take control for a second?”

She nodded, gasping as she felt him start to roll his hips into her from below, holding her firmly in place as he slowly, softly pounded into her, and oh _ fuck _it felt amazing, and she squeezed her eyes closed and grasped at the pillow in an attempt to keep herself at bay, but she still couldn’t stop a loud, protracted moan from slipping out between her lips as he sped up, pushing himself deeply and firmly inside her and trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

She whimpered needily, clenching the pillow so hard that her knuckles whitened. “Arlo,” she whined. “Arlo, this feels so good, please don’t stop, please don’t ever stop, keep going, _ please-- _”

He exhaled a trembling breath against her neck. “You feel amazing,” he whispered. “So fucking amazing.”

She was burning up, there would be nothing left of her, she had caught on fire and was _ burning _ and she needed some sort of relief soon or she’d _ burst _ , so she tore out of his grip, and she moved her hands to grip the metal frame at the top of the bed, and as he kept pumping into her, she returned to grinding against him again, holding herself as steady as she could even as the new delicious pressure made her see stars. Arlo’s hands pushed on her back as he tilted his hips slightly forward, and she allowed him to pull her a little closer so he could reach her right breast with his mouth, closing his lips around her nipple and swirling his tongue around the sensitive area, and he kissed it so slowly, so sloppily, moaning shakily against her skin as they both kept moving against each other, that the sensation nearly _ broke _her.

‘I’m--I’m almost there,” she panted, whimpering as his teeth grazed her nipple.

“I want you to say my name when you come,” he murmured breathlessly. “Can you do that for me, Hot Stuff?”

The absolutely lecherous way in which he half-growled her nickname almost sent her right over the edge, but she gritted her teeth and held it in. “Y-yes.”

He sped up his pace even further, sucking and nibbling and sliding his lips and tongue around her nipple while pounding into her in a steady rhythm, and Hannah stopped moving, angling herself back to get him to push perfectly against that sweet spot inside of her, and she threw her head back and moaned loudly as the pressure and heat built and built and built, and he was panting against her, and her hands clenched the bed frame, and she gasped for air as the tension grew stronger and stronger, until it reached its limit, and it _ snapped _, and she bit into her bottom lip as waves of pleasure started rippling through her.

“Arlo,” she whimpered, feeling how her legs jerked and trembled, “Arlo, oh fuck, _ Arlo_…!”

She yelled out, and he slowed his movements, grunting as she squeezed uncontrollably around him, and then his hands shot up to grab her head and jerk it down to his lips, brushing them against hers before locking their mouths together and swallowing her whimpered moans as she lost herself in the bliss of the moment. His tongue teased hers, and she just barely had enough presence of mind to respond, trying not to break completely as he kept pumping into her.

“Hannah,” he breathed as he pulled away again, panting roughly, “oh, Hannah--”

And then his hips seized and his movements became jerky and uneven, and he dug his face into her neck and wove his fingers into her hair, groaning deeply against her skin as he spent himself inside of her, holding her in a firm grip against his chest. 

She just about collapsed on top of him, panting into his neck as she felt his muscles start to relax again. After a moment, his hands untangled themselves from her hair and moved down slowly across her back before stopping by her hips, squeezing them softly. His chest was heaving up and down, quickly at first but then more calmly as he wound down, and then he took a deep, shuddering breath and turned his head slightly to the side to kiss the top of her ear.

“You all right?” he murmured.

Hannah groaned, too tired to lift her head. “Mm-hm.”

Her body bounced on top of him as he chuckled, reaching up with a hand to stroke her hair softly, carefully pulling his fingers through to disentangle the little knots he no doubt found there. “Did I manage to wear you out, then?”

Well, damn. If he was going to keep asking questions, she supposed she’d _ have _to lift her head. But… It felt so nice to just breathe in his scent…

When she didn’t answer, he wrapped his arms back around her and carefully turned them over so that they were lying side by side, facing each other. Her head lolled back against the mattress as she peered at him tiredly, unable to stifle a yawn. He smiled.

“I take that as a yes.” 

She registered distantly that he removed the condom and dropped it to the floor. Then he pulled her close to him again, peppering soft kisses across her forehead as she closed her eyes.

“It’s okay to fall asleep,” he murmured, thumb rubbing soothing circles against her hip. “I’ll be here for a few more hours, at least. And if I read Emily right, no one is going to disturb us.”

She snuggled into him and yawned again, and heard him copy it.

“Just… relax,” he whispered sleepily. “I’ll keep you safe.”

She didn’t want to fall asleep; she wanted to be with Arlo, with this amazingly kind and caring and smoking hot man, but _ Peach, _ she was exhausted, and so she let his low voice wash over her, slowly lulling her into a deep, recuperating sleep.

* * *

Hannah was pulled from her sleep by the rustling of papers nearby, and so she squirmed on the bed, yawning as she pushed open her eyes. Arlo was fully dressed up in jeans and uniform jacket, and was currently bent over her desk, rifling through a thin stack of papers before folding them together twice. He turned his head, sparing a quick glance at Hannah before moving his gaze away almost routinely, but then he froze and looked back at her. A slow smile crept onto his face.

“Oh. Good morning, or shall I say, good afternoon?”

She frowned, taking a moment to glance down at her own body, only to notice that she was still naked beneath her bed covers. 

“How… how long have I been asleep?” she murmured, rubbing at her eyes.

“Three hours, give or take,” he said as he tucked the folded sheets of paper into his jacket pocket. “I was just about to wake you up, actually. I have to go back to work in a little while. Nora came by about half an hour ago to check on you, so I asked if she could take over from me. She’ll be here soon, and I was thinking I’d give you some time to get ready first, maybe take a shower.”

She scowled at him. “Are you saying I smell?”

He grinned. “Let’s just say that anyone who stepped into this room would be able to tell what we’ve been up to.”

Hannah felt a blush form on her cheeks. She squeaked softly and pulled the covers up to her nose as her colourful memories from that morning started coming back to her--but before she could get very far, her brain caught on to the other part of what he’d just said.

“Wait,” she said incredulously while lowering the covers again. “_Nora _was here?”

“Nora was here,” he confirmed calmly as he sauntered over to the couch and sat down next to the pile of clutter she hadn’t gotten around to sorting through yet. When he saw the horrified look on her face, he smiled in clear amusement. “Oh don’t worry, I was fully dressed and the bedroom door was closed. She didn’t just waltz in without knocking first.”

_ She didn’t? _Hannah usually didn’t mind her friends walking in without knocking, because she liked being around them and wanted them to feel at home here. Nora knew that, so if she had taken the time to knock first… 

She groaned and hid her face in the covers. If Nora had knocked, then Emily must have told her what was going on. Taking a deep breath, she tried to imagine the worst case scenario, but quickly came to the conclusion that there really wasn’t any. Even if Nora knew what Arlo was doing here, she wouldn’t walk around gossiping about it; she wasn’t like that. She might tell Sam though. Which… could potentially be an issue for Arlo, she realised.

Removing the covers from her face, she looked over to the redhead on her couch. He was watching her with a curious, still slightly amused expression, though she could see some concern in his features that hadn’t been there before.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She sighed heavily. Well, there wasn’t much she could do if Nora decided to tell Sam, other than hope that Sam would take the high road and not tease her poor boss too much.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just a little tired. I think a shower will do good.”

She sat up slowly and swung her legs over the side of the bed, planting her feet firmly on the floor. Pulling the cover tightly around herself, she then stood up, wobbling slightly before finding her balance. She saw Arlo watching her out of the corner of his eye, probably ready to jump up and catch her in his arms if she wobbled again.

“Will you… be here when I get back?” she asked as she took a few careful steps towards the doorway.

“Yeah. I won’t leave until Nora gets here.” His gaze moved down along her body, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk as he returned to her face. “Just tell me if you need a hand in the shower.”

Her cheeks flushed, her mind scrambling for a come-back, because he’d caught her off guard with that one. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said silkily. “If it turns out my own two aren’t enough.”

She turned around before she could see his reaction, hoping to leave him stumped as she started walking away, but she should have known he wouldn’t leave it at that.

“Good,” he said in a deceptively innocent voice. “Just shout my name when you need me. You clearly know how to do that.”

She reached out to grip the door frame for support as she drew for air, a delicious tingle starting in her core. _ No, bad, not now, you’re supposed to shower! You don’t have time to play around! _

She could hear him snort in amusement behind her as she started walking again, but she just ignored him. She adored Arlo, but she really wasn’t used to him being this overt in his flirting. She clearly needed to step up her game if she didn’t want to fall behind.

She took a long, hot shower, sighing softly as she felt the water wash away dried sweat and other… bodily fluids from her skin and hair. When she was done, she wrapped herself in one of her towels, taking a deep breath before opening the door and returning to her bedroom, where she found Arlo in the same place as she’d left him, busy writing something in one of her empty notebooks. He glanced up when she entered.

“You actually look like a person now,” he teased her, and maybe she should have been annoyed, but she only felt something untangle in her gut at the familiarity of the easy banter.

“More than I can say about you,” she muttered back, though it was a blatant lie of course, because Arlo always looked great; even when he was worn out from a training session, or drenched from heavy rain, or covered in muck after a long day in the hazardous ruins. Except, she realised with a smile, when his hair had been towel-dried and he looked like an electrified llama.

She turned away to hide her smile as she rummaged around in her wardrobe for something to wear. The thought of having to go through all the motions to get into a shirt and pants right now didn’t feel tempting in the least, so she settled for a long, airy dress that she usually only used to wear on rare days off in Summer. She dug through her remaining underwear, cursing when she found only pink llama patterns, but oh well. At least she’d worn her good underwear earlier... that she now had to replace, she remembered with a happy shiver.

Knowing full well that Arlo was watching her from behind, she let the towel fall to the floor, smirking as she heard a soft gasp. She stepped into the underwear, pulled on her bra and clasped it closed, and then she took a moment to stretch herself out, hands reaching towards the ceiling as she stood on tiptoe in front of the wardrobe. Only when she’d run her hands through her hair a few times, using a hair tie to pull it back and fasten it in a lazy knot, she decided to have mercy on him, and pulled the dress over her head, letting it fall down easily and pool softly around her feet. Biting down her satisfied smirk, she closed the doors to the wardrobe and turned around.

Arlo immediately cast down his eyes, but she could see the blush running from his cheeks down across his neck, and that was enough for her.

She was about to tease him a little when there was a knock from the front door. Their heads snapped to face the sound, and then they looked back to stare at each other.

“I guess that’s it,” Arlo murmured, tearing the page he’d been writing on from the notebook and crumpling it in his hand before getting up from the couch and tossing the book onto her desk. He walked up to Hannah, looking down at her with an intense gaze. 

“I’ll see you soon, Hot Stuff,” he said quietly, and then he reached out and grabbed her right wrist, turning her palm up before placing the crumpled sheet of paper there and closing her fingers around it. She just blinked down at her fist, standing there in confusion as Arlo chuckled and walked out the room. 

Distantly hearing him open the door and welcome Nora inside, she smoothed out the crumpled paper with trembling hands and read the note.

** _You taste better than pumpkin pie._ **

She gaped at the message, feeling her cheeks flush once again. Then she crumpled the note in her fist and let it hang by her side as she took a deep breath. 

That man would be the end of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't miss tomorrow's extra - subscribe to **[Finding You Extras](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815)** if you haven't already ^_^ (Link to the chapter will be posted here as well.)
> 
> [A Word or Three](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515815/chapters/54419233)
> 
> Alongside You (final chapter) - Feb 19th


	36. Alongside You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Arlo shows up wanting to talk to her, Hannah isn't expecting the heart to heart that follows.

March 15th, Sunday

Hannah looked up when she heard the knock on her front door, flipping the pad of paper she’d been doodling on shut and setting it aside on her bedside table, sparing a quick glance and smile for the pink metal box she hadn’t got around to putting away yet in front of the photos. She listened to Emily turning the taps off then walking through her house, then started to grin as she heard Oaks’ muffled greeting, Emily’s soft giggle, and then the door shutting again.

“You can’t have her yet Oaks, she’s still mine for another hour,” she called playfully, sitting further up on her bed and sliding her top straps back up her shoulders. The only problem with old comfy clothes was how stretched out they were.

She looked towards the door, expecting her friend to wander in looking sheepish and maybe holding his bag of craft supplies, but instead Arlo appeared. Stunned and slightly dazed, he looked like he’d had some sort of world changing revelation. She bit her lip as he turned back towards the front door, and she took the moment to appreciate his lack of uniform.

Loose combat trousers with large pockets, a brown jacket held in his hand, and a white shirt with sleeves rolled up his forearms and the top few buttons undone. Her eyes drifted over the marks and scratches on his arms she’d noticed on Friday before her eyes lifted back up towards his face. He was wearing his bandana again, and she felt her cheeks start to heat as her eyes settled on it and she got lost in memories of how it had felt between her teeth, before shaking herself out of her fantasies to finish her ogling. Because he painted a very, _ very _nice picture, that she could happily stare at for hours.

He snorted, and she looked back up at his face to find she’d been caught staring, and he looked a mix of concerned and smugly amused. But then, she was allowed to be caught looking at him now, right? After everything that happened on Friday? So she met his gaze levelly, and raised a brow. He blinked at her, apparently stunned by her lack of reaction, then walked over to stand by the bed next to her.

“I’ve got the afternoon off, so I thought I’d stop by and see how you were doing?” he said, and she smiled up at him happily. "Which is just as well I guess, since Oaks has just taken Emily on a date it seems," he added as he moved again, leaning forward and down, his face getting closer and closer and she felt her breath catch, because oh, ok then, she hadn’t been expecting him to just go for it like this. She let her eyes fall shut, and tilted her head up to meet him.

Only to blink her eyes back open when his forehead settled against hers. She looked into his blue eyes, crinkled round the edge and dancing with amusement as he hummed and pulled back, leaning over her on the bed and smirking.

“Oh, sorry Hannah, you were looking a bit flushed, but you don’t seem to be too hot after all.”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out straight away. Because really? He was... that was the game he wanted to play? Well fine then!

Snorting a small laugh, she fell back on her pillows and shifted under him, reaching her arms above her head to grab on to the headbars as she rolled her shoulders and pushed her legs out in front of her.

“But Arlo, I am _ damn _hot and you know it,” she said lowly, tilting her head down so she could look up at him through her lashes. And she felt a sense of smug satisfaction as he choked, blushing a deep red high on his cheeks as his eyes skittered down her body, snagging for a moment on the holes in the old tank top she was wearing, most noticeably on the rip above her ribs, just under her left breast.

She couldn’t bite down on the laugh any longer, and it escaped her as another snort, causing him to snap his attention back to her face and he looked ashamed for a split second, before he sighed and his face melted into the relaxed, playful, happy Arlo she’d known and loved best all those months ago.

Which was fine. Because banter like this used to be normal. Maybe not the exact content, but this dynamic they had was familiar. Comfortable.

It was right.

He shook himself out of his stupor and pulled away further, standing next to the bed and crossing his arms as he looked down at her, trying for stern Captain type person, but the grin on his lips spoiled the effect. 

“I’d certainly say you are,” he half-growled, and shit. His voice when he talked like that was, it was something else entirely. _ Especially _ right here in her bedroom while he leant over her, after all the other things he’d said like that before. She bit her lip to help her focus as he paused, his eyes snagging on the movement. Then his growing smirk, because he must have noticed her reacting, faltered slightly. “But you’re back in bed. What happened? Are you ok?”

Was she ok? Aaah. Yeah, she could understand why her being back in bed today would be worrying to him right now, given everything that had happened in the past week, but…

She sighed, and gently pushed against his chest so she could sit up again, running one of her hands up into her hair and tucking the stray wisps back.

“I, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, nothing major to worry about I promise. But I’ll be honest, I’m not feeling so great right now. Could you go see if I have any herbal mixes left in the fridge please? And Nora dropped some food off for me before she went up to the Church to play for the service, so if there’s anything sweet, I’d like that too?”

He frowned at her, eyes darting over her face in concern, before nodding sharply and walking back out the room. She watched him go until he passed the frame, because those trousers did _ amazing _ things for his butt, then started to push her blankets down the bed out of the way. She knew Nora had gotten her some sort of dessert, but she wasn’t sure what, and she didn’t want to get anything messy on her blankets if she could help it. But then, she thought, looking down. Would it be more of a hassle to wash the blankets, or the bedsheet?

A white box was put down gently next to her, and she looked up to find Arlo next to the bed again, looking down at her worriedly. Eh. She had other bedsheets. And he’d probably help her change it if she asked.

“You’re out of herbal mixes I’m afraid,” he started, looking pained, and she wondered about it until she realized, oh. Right. He probably thought she hadn’t been making them because he hadn’t been bringing her fruits and berries for them. And he went on before she could correct him, pointing at the box. “And it looks like Nora has got you a few meals, but that was the only sweet thing I could see in there.”

She looked down at the box, and started to reach for it before stopping again. Because he hadn’t moved. He was still standing next to the bed. She looked up at him, confused. Because what was the… oh for the love of Peach.

“Sit with me?” she offered, scooting over and patting the space on the bed next to her against the headpiece. He looked at her for a breath longer, then nodded again, climbing up onto the bed and making it dip as he crawled towards her. She shifted forward and to the side, glancing at the pile of pillows she’d been leaning against then up at him, hoping he’d take the hint. And he did.

He shifted over some more, and she waited while he moved a few pillows behind his back, but then he lifted his arm up, and seemed to relax as he looked at her. Looked at her just like he had before everything went wrong between them. Like he was thinking she needed looking after, and he’d have to be the one to do it. The way he’d looked before he used to sigh and pull her closer, rest his head against the top of hers and run his hands along her sides.

Looking down as she moved forward, she sat next to him and slid her arm around his back in the gap the pillows left so it wouldn’t get crushed or be awkward for him. Then she snuggled close, her head on his shoulder, her legs pulled up and leaning against his, her other hand curled up on his chest and this was, this was everything she’d been missing. 

She hummed happily as the arm around her back settled into place, his hand resting on her waist in _ exactly _the right spot, and he reached out with his other and grabbed the food box to bring it closer and place it into her lap. He held it steady as she tried to open the lid one handed, huffing a laugh against the top of her head, but then she’d flipped the lid and--

A fruit puff. A giant fruit puff with cream dripping out the side and slices of fruit fallen out to lay in the bottom of the box and wow. Django had really gone all out with this one. What had Nora even told him when she’d asked for it? She was staring at it in amazement when Arlo shifted under her, and then she stilled as his lips made contact with her temple, leaving a tingly feeling when he pulled back and rested his cheek against her instead.

“I’m sorry to do this when you said you aren’t feeling great, but I think, I think we need to talk.”

She sighed, her hand clenching around the lid she held as she let her eyes slide shut. Because nothing good ever came of those words, she knew that. She’d read enough books and heard enough stories to know that those words meant nothing good. And after everything that had happened between them, there were plenty of ways for him to now rip her heart out and stomp on it and break it into a million pieces, and she could feel the burning itch starting to form in the corners of her eyes.

But then he muttered a curse, and his fingers were under her chin and tipping her face up towards his, and he was kissing her.

Little kisses, all over her face. Her cheeks, her nose, her eyes, her forehead, her lips. Lots and lots of kisses in no set pattern, over and over and over again.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly between pecks at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s not a bad talk, I promise,” he said before a slightly longer one to her nose. 

“It’s a clear things up talk,” as he placed three quick ones across her forehead.

“A sort things out talk,” was whispered between kisses on one cheek.

“A get everything straight talk,” as his lips ghosted across the other cheek.

“A--” 

She reached up and grabbed him by the back of the head, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him down, slotting their lips together and finally, finally getting a proper, real kiss from him. The first they’d had since Friday, when everything had happened so fast and she hadn’t had time to appreciate the fact that she was having her first ever kiss with him before things had _escalated_.

He was warm, and soft. His fingers that had lifted her chin up twitched, then moved to slide around the back of her neck, holding onto her gently but firmly. His lips gave under hers as she moved, fitting against hers perfectly, and it was everything she remembered, and then more. He moved with her in harmony, as if they’d kissed hundreds of times already, and not just the, the however many they had on Friday. They were in sync, giving and taking and moving and sliding and it was all, it was all so wonderful. She didn’t ever want to stop.

He started to pull back and she let go of his hair immediately, eyes scanning his flushed face guiltily because oops, she hadn’t actually asked him if she could do that. Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because he snorted and ducked back in to press one last, firm kiss against her lips before sitting back up again properly, leaning back on the pillows and sighing.

“I think we need to clear the air. I know we covered some of it the other day but I want to, I want to get it all out in the open while things aren’t so, heated. While we’re both more rational. If that’s ok?” he asked softly, his hand moving from her neck to trail across her shoulder, down her arm, and then he linked their fingers together and pulled them up, and he kissed the backs of hers as he looked down at her patiently, waiting. She was tempted to call the look loving. She nodded at him, wanting him to go on. And he smiled softly as he let her go, and pulled his hand back to set on the bed beside him.

“Hannah, I lo--” he started, only to bite his lip and close his eyes for half a breath, before they opened again but skittered away from looking at her, the blush that had faded springing back to life full force on his cheeks, and her heart fluttered because that sounded a whole lot like he was going to say he ** _loved_ **\--

“I _ like _you. I like you a lot,” he powered on, tipping his head back and staring up at her ceiling before she watched his eyes flutter shut. And she felt her lips twitch even as she stared at him. “And I know I’m the one who messed up and pulled back and made things weird between us, but I need you to be in my life. I need to have you around because it hurt too damn much when you weren’t and I don’t, I don’t want to waste any more time if I can help it. Please say I can stay near you? Please tell me I didn’t take too long pulling my head out my arse?”

He’d pulled her closer as he talked, the arm around her back tightening and holding her firmly against him. But it wasn’t painful. It was nice. She felt safe, protected, cared for. It was like his words were actions, trying to pull her close and keep her next to him.

She reached up, her fingers lightly touching his cheek, hoping to turn him towards her so she could see his face again. But he resisted, turning his face away instead, pressing into her fingers. She sighed as she spread them, and cupped his cheek instead, letting her thumb rub small circles.

“Why did you pull away, Arlo?” she asked quietly. And he flinched, but she went on before he could answer, because now she’d started to ask, she had to get all of this out. “I don’t mean why did you blank me over Winter, I kind of remember enough of what you said to piece it together. I mean why did you stop flirting with me last Summer. Because I know you _ were _ flirting with me, because that's why I started trying to flirt with you. The way you looked at me during the push up competition. The way you talked to me when I painted my room. All those whispered Hot Stuffs. And actually, while I'm asking, you didn’t tell me why you thought I didn't mean any of it?”

He sighed deeply, then slowly turned his face back towards her. She could see a muted pain in his eyes, and it stung. Because she’d caused it. He didn’t even have to say anything for her to know she’d caused it.

She started to pull her hand away from his cheek, feeling small and awful and terrible for hurting him, but then he was holding her wrist. And he was staring straight at her as he pulled her hand back towards him, and kissed the centre of her palm.

Once. Twice. Three times he kissed her palm, she felt the tip of his tongue during the last one, before he brought her hand down to rest against his chest.

“I don’t know if you’ll remember,” he started lowly, quietly. “One Saturday at Amber Island, when we were drinking, you said... You said you liked redheads and uniforms. And I thought you were flirting with me. So I tried to flirt back. But you...” He paused, taking a shuddering breath, which confused her. Because she remembered that night. She remembered them having fun and drinking, and yeah she remembered flirting with him, but what was he then remembering?

“You laughed at me when I tried to flirt back,” he finished, and she felt her jaw drop.

Because what?

“I, I what?” she stuttered, staring at him, then she frowned because wait. Wait. He didn’t mean…

“You mean I laughed when you said you liked brown hair?” she asked, and he nodded solemnly. She stared at him for a beat, waiting for him to keep going, say it was something after that, but no, no apparently that was it. So she had to check. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she asked, incredulous, and when he only blinked at her, she felt the need to go on.

“You think telling me you like brown hair is flirting, and you got upset when I laughed at that? Why didn’t you say something more? Why didn’t you tell me not to laugh, and then try flirting again? There I was, being as obvious as I knew how, practically offering myself to you on a plate, and you just… Really!?”

His hand went to his hair and slicked it back from his face as he growled, and he half glared, half pouted down at her.

“I thought you were making fun of me, ok? I thought you were laughing _ at _me, because I’d misheard what you said and you didn’t mean me after all. That you meant Oaks maybe. Don't look at me like that, you had your hands all over him at the push up thing. But anyway,” he continued over her splutters. “You are not one to talk about being obvious. That time at the beach, what the hell was that? Offering to take my clothes off because I looked too hot. I honestly couldn’t tell if you were concerned for my health, or were flirting.”

“You wanted obvious? What about when I asked you for advice on tying people to beds. What about when you helped me get this bed home? How much more obvious could I possibly have been Arlo, beyond what I said that day? Heck, I invited you to come help me test the damn thing out!” she yelped, knowing her voice was getting both higher and louder, but not caring, because out of all the dumb, stupid, moronic, things he could have said as an excuse, this had to be--

His hand slid into her hair and she barely had time to gasp before his mouth was on hers again, and he was growling and holy fucking shit that was hot. That was damn hot and nice, and forceful, possessive, take charge Arlo was the best Arlo ever. She whimpered as he kissed her, pushing hard and running his tongue against the crease of her lips until she parted them, and then running along the insides of her lips and tangling with her tongue while he held her still and shit. Yes. Fuck. More.

But he pulled back from her, again. Staying close, eyes burning into her as he panted only inches away.

“We could sit here all day and go over the various mistakes we’ve made. The what if moments that might have let us get together sooner, or broken us further apart. But I think I’d much, much rather focus on the here and now, and the future. So tell me Hannah,” he growled as he guided her head by her hair to the side and lowered his lips to her neck. “Tell me. What do you want to happen between us now?”

“Well,” she panted, trying to think around the feel of him gently kissing and breathing on her neck. Her fingers clutched at his shirt, and she was probably creasing it, but she really didn’t care at this point. She tried to twist round, wanting to be closer to him and give him more access to her neck, and heard the crunch of the food box because shit. She still had the fruit puff in her lap, didn’t she. She let go of Arlo to quickly pick up the box and throw it somewhere on the bed next to them, before reaching up around the back of his arm to grip his shoulder from behind.

“I think, I think it’s quite simple really. You like me, and I lo--like you--ah!”

She gasped as he latched on to her pulse point, sucking hard as she copied what he’d done earlier and by Peach, she sure hoped that would leave a mark like he had the other day. Sure, she’d had to endure some teasing from Sam and Nora, but the feeling she got in her gut every time she’d seen them in the mirror had been more than worth it.

“I want us to be a thing,” she panted as he ran his tongue over her neck, licking and swirling and shit, now he was biting. “I, ah, I want you in my life. I want things to go back to how they, how they were before.”

“I didn’t use to kiss you before though,” he growled, and the vibrations against her skin sent shivers all down her back.

“You know what I mean, you stupid damned flurpee!” she groaned, torn between pushing him away to strangle him, and pulling him closer and begging him to never stop.

“I want you back in my life,” she gritted out, her fingers digging into his shoulder and waist. “I want you letting yourself into my house, and making yourself comfortable. I want you here so I can hug you and touch you and curl up with you. I want to lay with you on my couch and in my bed, and have you read to me and stroke my hair. I want you here so I can give you rubs and hugs when you need them, and take care of you when you’re injured, and make sure you know every single day how much I lo--care about you. I want you to feel safe enough to fall asleep on me, like I’ve always felt safe enough to do on you.” 

He’d stopped kissing her neck at some point, and was breathing heavily against it now. She turned her head, feeling his fingers in her hair loosen slightly to allow it, and rubbed her cheek against him. She couldn’t kiss him back from this angle, but she could whisper in his ear. Which was how she continued. “And yes, I want you to keep kissing me, and all the other stuff. I want you back in my life, Arlo. And I want you like _ this_.”

She stopped, breathing heavily. He was frozen against her, barely breathing against her neck anymore. And that, that was fine. She’d just dumped a load of things on him. It was perfectly normal to need a moment or two--

His mouth latched back on to her neck, the same spot as before, and he moaned against her. The vibrations went straight through her down to her toes, causing them to curl as she gasped, because that was both too much and nowhere near enough.

“Arlo,” she whined, gripping him and trying to pull him closer, and his moan turned to a growl. His hand untangled from her hair completely and fell to her upper knee, tugging it sideways, and what was he--oh. Oh, ok, he wanted her to sit on him? She could do that! No, wait, _ damn_.

“Ar--ah! Arlo, stop, stop a second,” she panted, trying to think straight.

He pulled back immediately, head shooting up level with hers and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from leaning forward and smashing their lips together. He was red cheeked, flustered, hair mussed and looking dishevelled in the best possible way. He looked hot! His pupils were blown wide with desire, and the worry and concern and iron control she could see in the depths of them just made it that much harder to keep her hands off him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, all soft and concerned, ready to do whatever she asked despite how worked up he obviously was.

“I think,” she started, swallowing hard and looking away from him. “I think we need to stop there. Before we go any further.”

“But, but you just said,” he said slowly, obviously confused.

“Yeah. Yeah I know. I’m sorry. I’m not saying I don’t want to,” she went on quickly, wanting to clear this up before it could become a _ thing_. “I’m saying it isn’t going to happen _ today_, and I don’t want to let this go any further when it can’t end up really _ going _where I think you were planning.”

He stared at her, confused, and obviously trying to work out what she was talking about. She tipped her head slightly, trying to make him look at the calendar hanging above her bedside table, and she saw his eyes dart that way. She was able to watch the moment everything clicked together in his head, and the look of both relief and annoyance on his face was priceless.

But then he was concerned again, and his hand moved to her side, resting next to the other one still wrapped around her back and applying gentle pressure.

“I’m so sorry Hannah, I lost track of days, I should have remembered. Are you ok, what day are you on now? Did you need…. That’s why you’re out of herbal mix isn’t it? Did you want me to go up to the clinic and get you any?”

She huffed a laugh, half amazed and half amused that he’d managed to switch from hot and heavy to kind and caring and doting in the blink of an eye.

“Day two, so I’m not so bad. And no, I don’t want you to go anywhere. Having you here with me has always been the best cure. The sweetened mixes and cakes have only ever been a bonus.”

He blushed, subtly at first, but then it grew and darkened on his already red cheeks. He looked away from her, and she started to giggle until his eyes lit up and damnit, no, what had he just thought? She felt his hand leave her side again, but was too busy watching his face and trying to work out what he was thinking to think much of it. Which was a mistake.

“Cakes are a bonus, huh? So I guess you won’t be wanting this after all then?”

She looked in horror as he picked up the fruit puff from the box, squeezing it too tightly and causing cream to leak out the sides. A slice of strawberry slipped out of it and plopped back into the box, and she whined.

“But that’s fine. I can always eat it myself,” he purred, and before she could register what was happening, he’d pulled it closer and taken a bite out of it.

“Arlo! What are you doing?! You don’t even like cream or sweets!” she yelped, reaching out to try and take it from him only for him to tighten his hold around her waist again and hold the puff out of her reach. He chewed quickly and swallowed, and she most definitely didn’t watch the way his throat bounced with the action, nope.

“I don’t normally, no. But I found out the last time you ate one of these that they don’t taste so bad, if eaten alongside you.”

Her eyes snapped to his. Because that was, that sounded like...

“Guess we’ll have to keep that in mind for the future then,” she heard herself say lowly, she’d be almost tempted to say she’d purred. Which was amazing, because her brain hadn’t had any input in that sentence whatsoever. It seemed to have an effect though, as his eyes started to darken again, and his fingers holding the pastry twitched, digging in and sending crumbs raining down on her bed. Not that she could make herself care right now. Not with the way he was looking at her.

“Or I could keep eating now,” he murmured, and that was all the warning she had before he pushed the puff against the side of her face, twisting it and smearing it over her cheek and jaw and lips and nose and she spluttered, but he’d pulled it away and dropped the crumbly remains back into the box and she opened her mouth to shout at him, because by Peach's spotted boxers that had been _ her _ fruit puff damnit!

But then he was licking her face. His tongue was swiping up the cream on her cheek. Long, slow strokes moving across her face, his hand was back in her hair holding her still and she had half a mind to protest, since she could feel the sticky cream that had gotten on his fingers now in her hair, but then he reached the edge of her lips and no, no it didn’t matter.

Because he was lapping the cream up, and then ending each swipe of his tongue with a kiss. He cleaned her cheek, the side of her nose, and pulled her hair to tip her head back to start on her jaw. And it felt wonderful and amazing and by all the monsters in Ingall’s Mine did she ever hate her body right now!

“Arlo, stop! It’s, it’s too much right now, please,” she whimpered, closing her eyes, incredibly grateful when he immediately did stop, moving to lean their foreheads and noses together. She couldn’t see him, but she could imagine how big his smirk must be, considering how worked up she was. But she couldn’t really find it in herself to care.

His fingers scratched against her head through her hair, pulling more and more out of her ponytail, and she sighed, annoyed that he was making a mess, and getting cream in more of her hair, but also grateful because it was soothing, and was helping her get her body back under control faster. But then he stopped, and carefully untangled his fingers, and she should probably look and see what he was doing, but not right now.

“Since I’ve told you how I feel,” he started quietly, his breath ghosting across her lips. ”And since you said you return my feelings, I suppose I can finally give you this now, if that’s ok?”

He was doing something with her left hand, which had fallen into her lap, and was sliding something onto her wrist. She kept her eyes shut while he adjusted whatever it was, only opening them when he squeezed her fingers. And she looked down to see--

To see a heart knot on her wrist. It looked a little battered, a little wonky. The red cord was twisted and dented in places like it’d been tied several times before staying in place, and the wooden beads were scuffed. But it was most definitely a heart knot. And he’d, he’d had this on him somewhere, to just give to her out of nowhere like that. Just how long had he been carrying this around, wanting to give it to her?

“Hannah?” he murmured, and she realised she still hadn’t said anything to him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll take it. I, I, yes! Please!”

He chuckled, sounding relieved, and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips, smiling happily at her and looking both excited and reassured. And she knew she shouldn’t, she really knew she shouldn’t, but she just _ had _to ask now…

“So how long have you been carrying this around for?”

He blushed, and she decided that yes, she really did like that look on him. It was going to be her new mission to make him blush as much as possible from now on. Seeing as he was now her ** _boyfriend _ **after all.

“I, er, I made it around about when you had your stable built, I think?”

“But that would mean,” she started slowly, working things through. “That would mean you had this, that time on Amber Island? You were planning on giving me a heart knot that night and you still didn’t think to check anything?”

“Don’t start that again, not right now,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “What matters is I’ve given it to you now, right?”

“I suppose,” she allowed, looking at the knot again and smiling at it. “Oh! Can I show Sam and Nora? Did they know about it? Am I ok to wear it out and about in town? It won’t cause problems since you’re the Captain, will it?”

He huffed a laugh at her indulgently.

“Of course you can wear it outside, you plierimp. That’s the whole point. And no, no one knew I’d made it for you. Well, Alice probably suspected since I borrowed the pattern book from her. As for causing me problems, well… no.” He stopped, looking down and blushing. “It seems that almost everyone thought we already started dating sometime last Summer, but just got more discreet over Winter. And I wasn’t exactly subtle when I brought you back from the ruins, or refused to leave your side. I think Sam and Nora will be the least surprised, though. Especially Sam, since she gave you condoms…”

His eyes narrowed playfully, and no she wasn’t going to have that conversation right now, time for a new subject!

“Great! So that means I can go out to show them, right?”

“Ah. Well, yes. You're fine to go to town, but I don’t want you going into the ruins by yourself for a while, ok? If you need any ore or relics, come get me, Sam, or Remy, and we’ll go with you.”

“What? But Arlo, that’s--”

“Please,” he cut across her sharply, and she blinked at him. He was looking at her pleadingly, almost begging already, and she was immediately willing to stop arguing with him over this. But he went on.

“Last Saturday I found you half buried in a blown up abandoned room. You didn’t respond to anything I said or did. And then I spent three hours sitting next to you in the clinic, wondering if you’d ever wake up again. I don’t, I can’t go through that again with you Hannah. I know what happened was a one in a million chance, but I can’t, I can’t…”

She stared at him as his face scrunched up, his lips pressed tightly together as his eyes closed. And she looked at him. Really looked at him.

Dark smudges under his eyes. Paler than normal skin. His normally glossy and mostly tidy hair was dull and looked to have not seen an actual brush in days. 

He’d literally lived through his nightmare on Saturday. And if she was seeing things and reading him right, he’d probably been replaying it every night since. And here she was, trying to brush it off so she could get back to work. 

Which reminded her, he’d been injured. She distinctly remembered he’d got hurt rescuing her. He’d had bandages on his hands and arms on Saturday, though he wasn’t wearing any now, and she faintly remembered seeing a bruise on his ribs? She couldn’t really just grab his arms or rip his top off and start looking, so how could she check…?

Well. There was one obvious way. But first, she had to reassure him.

“That’s fine Arlo. I understand. No going to the ruins without someone to help me. I can always just pay for some shipments from Dana instead, if that’ll be better?” she offered, and the small, tight, relieved smile and nod he gave her was worth the expense of the delivery service.

“But saying that, if you want to keep an eye on me from now on, maybe you should go ahead and move in with me already,” she said lightly, tapping the back of his hand around her waist and starting to twist. He let go, and she slid out of his hold and off the edge of the bed. She turned back to look at him, since he hadn’t said anything, and found him staring at her stunned. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide. Huh.

“I mean, at one point you were here more often than not anyway, right? You know where everything is around my home, and you helped yourself to my things all the time. Really, the only things that aren’t already here are your clothes, and your pillow,” she mused, walking to the door and deliberately not looking at him as she started to tug her top up. “And they can both be brought over very easily.”

She stepped through the doorway as she pulled her top over her head, and threw it back into the bedroom, biting her lip to stop the laugh when she heard his strangled splutter, then the creak of the bed as he climbed off it.

“Hannah? What are you doing? You can’t just drop that on me and walk away!”

She looked over her shoulder at him framed in her doorway as she walked towards her bathroom, untying the knot in her loose sleeping shorts, then stopping so they could drop from her hips to the floor, then stepping out of them. His face was priceless right now.

“Well, someone decided to get cream in my hair, and make me all _ sticky_,” she said, as innocently as she could, and enjoyed the bright red blush that immediately covered his face. “So I thought I should have a shower before I started moving my things around, to make space for you,” she explained, turning back towards him and walking up to him, stopping just in front of him and peering up, enjoying the way his eyes couldn’t quite stay on her face.

“But wow Arlo, you’re looking kind of hot there, and it looks like you got a bit of cream on you too. Maybe you should come join me, and I could help you get it off…?”

Her hands reached up to start toying with the buttons of his shirt, and she’d popped the top two open, revealing more of his wonderful chest, before his hands caught onto her wrists and held her still.

“Hannah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You just told me to stop, and if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then I’m not sure how well that will go,” he said quietly, his fingers rhythmically clenching around her as if he wasn’t sure whether to hang on or let go.

She sighed as she looked up at him. His jaw was set, and his eyes had that determined look in them which meant he was about to get stubborn about this. And she could appreciate that, she really could! It meant so much to her that he cared about her health and happiness and well being, and was prepared to put her before himself and what he clearly wanted.

But by Peach, how much more obvious did she need to be?

"Arlo," she said, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling his face down level with hers, leaving a breath of space between them as she met his heated gaze. "Let me try again, so you don't misunderstand and disappear for a month."

She ignored his spluttered protests, instead focusing on the rising colour of his cheeks. "I want an excuse to get you naked and in my shower. I want to check you to see just how badly you got hurt rescuing me last week. I want to run my hands over you, to make sure you’re all in one piece, and are as fine as you’re pretending to be.”

Pausing to press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips when his eyes softened, she then went on in a whisper against his lips. 

“And then I am _offering_ to give you a _hand_ to help you get the _cream_ off whatever bits of you it got on. _Any _and _all _bits it got on. I want to _lick _and _suck_ and _rub_ at any particularly stubborn bits until I know I’ve got it all. So again, are you _sure_ you don't want to join me in the shower?"

He stared at her, breathing hard, his eyes taking on that hungry, dark look she truly loved to see. She felt his tongue slowly sweep across his bottom lip, brushing over her own as well, before his eyes lit up as he smirked at her. Letting go of her wrists to reach behind her and unhook her bra, his hands then dropped to her hips to start playing with the edge of her underwear, sliding his fingers underneath the back in small circles as he pulled her flush against him.

"Well when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnnnnd that's a wrap!  
Thank you so much for joining us for the main part of our loveable idiot's story! We truly appreciate all of you who have stuck with us, left kudos and comments and encouragement. This story literally wouldn't have been the same without you!  
(I do mean literally. Some of your comments actually sparked extra chapters and made us re-think certain scenes >whistles innocently<)
> 
> Now. We **do** have more content for them planned!  
There is a prequel which covers a couple of different characters and what they get up to from before the start of this fic that we're working on, and then a sequel which will follow on from after this and explore a few more moments of their lives together that has certain things plotted out. And then we ALSO have something else we're slowly poking at... which is all sorts of fun ^_~
> 
> BUT
> 
> Having said that, we currently don't have an accurate idea of when those other things might be out. We both have stuff going on that got put aside after this fic took over our lives for, er, the last 9 months more or less? So while a large chunk of the other content is already done, we cannot currently pin down when it will be out. Your best bet to be among the first to know about anything would be to subscribe to the **[Finding You series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537756)** so you'll get an email straight away when the Prequel starts (since that's what'll go up first)
> 
> So once again, thank you so much for getting this far! We both have other MTaP fics you can check out if you want, but if not, then all the love and hugs for you all, and we'll see you later!  
Alien_duck
> 
> (Oh, PS. Does anyone have anything they'd particularly want answered in the sequel? Certain things are already being expanded on, but there might be something bugging you that we haven't thought was a thing? Let us know if you do, and if we see it before we start posting the relevant part, we'll try to include it for you!)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos are great and comments make our day, so please feel free to leave both! We’re really looking forward to hearing what you think of this.


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